If I thought the last post was difficult to write, then I clearly had no idea what I would face a few weeks later. It is now Sunday evening, nearing midnight as I type, and in seven hours I will be in a vehicle driving away from the place I have called home these last two years. My family will wave good-bye, and I won’t even bother to wipe away the tears. After all, who can stem the flow of a waterfall with emotion driving its currents?

Time disappeared. The weeks flew past in a blink. I have been the greatest emotional wreck this place has ever seen as I have said good-bye after good-bye to beloved students, coworkers, and family members here on the base. The simplest mention of my leaving brings tears to my weary eyes. Even now I write through a sheen of tears, unable to believe that I am truly leaving.

These people have become my family, and I cannot imagine leaving them in the morning. I knew it would be hard to leave, but I never imagined this. God has changed and taught me so much these last two years, and these people have been instrumental in every minute of it. They have watched me grow, helped me up when I fell, encouraged me when I wanted to give up, and laughed with me in times of joy. They have seen it all and stood by me at every turn in the road.

My friend Julie, who is also leaving the base a week after me, asked earlier this evening, “How do you walk away?” How do you walk away from your family? away from a home where the Lord is tangible and present in every moment of every day? away from students who have stolen your heart? How do you walk away?

How?

I know God has called me to Russia. I have no doubt in my mind, but that does not make this parting any easier. When I leave tomorrow morning, I have no idea when I will return or when and if I will see these beloved members of my family again. In all my travels filled with greetings and partings, I have never experienced such emotional heartache as this.

I look at the four empty walls around me. The wardrobe is emptied of all contents, the shelves cleared of my books, my desk empty of its pencils and papers, and my dresser devoid of jewelry. Instead, three suitcases stand guard by the door, waiting.

Still, in the midst of the torrent of tears, I know that the Lord has already seen me through. He knows the great meetings that will occur once I land on American soil. I will see my parents again for the first time in eleven months. I will see friends who had been supportive of my work here in Africa from day one. I may be saying good-bye to my African family and my amazing life here on the base, but I am also saying many hellos as well. God is good, all the time. He knows my comings and goings, and He certainly knows my joys and my heartaches.

The Lord knows how difficult this parting will be for me (and already is), but He also knows the incredible plans that await me in the US and in Russia. I can leave with tears in my eyes knowing God is for me. He has already counted the tears that will fall, and He knows the number of smiles that will cross my face as I greet my American family and friends.

Because of Him, I can face tomorrow.