Our 2nd Season

“Be vulnerable.”

This has often been the advice that ‘Mercy Shippers’ have given me when I ask how to be successful in the organization.

Vulnerable.

To be fair, so far the tone of this blog has been upbeat. Informative, but with a sense of excitement and adventure. And those sentiments are true. But to be honest, part of this journey is scary. And part is just plain heart-wrenching.

Ok. Here goes. Vulnerable.

Our first grandchild was born nearly ten years ago. For the first year of her life she and mom (our daughter Kiana) lived with us. Perhaps I have glossed over the hard parts, but I remember it as a time of joy and wonder. Marci had just been through a major health scare (thankfully she fully recovered) and held “Buggy” for hours on end. I would get home from work and immediately put Aniyah in a child carrying backpack and explore the world with my new buddy.

And what a best buddy she turned out to be.

We became inseparable, and even after she moved from Denver, Colorado to Tacoma, Washington, we maintained an extremely close bond that continues today.

This school year, shortly after Marci retired, her parents asked us to homeschool Aniyah to improve some academic areas of weakness. Marci jumped at the chance and Buggy has been living with us full-time since the summer. We believed we would have time to finish the school year and then move on to other pursuits. But that was not to be.

And tomorrow….

Tomorrow she will be going home.

Today we packed all of her things. She came into her room and looked stunned. She asked me for a hug and said, “This is all happening too fast.”

And tomorrow she will be going home.

As grandparents we worry about her future. Her health. Her eating habits. Her ‘screen time’. We fret about her friends, and clothes, and language, and the myriad of things lurking around the corner ready to derail her bright future.

But tomorrow she will be going home.

It is silly to think we can protect her from both the temptations and evils of the world. That we alone can guide her into tranquil green pastures. But if God is calling us to go work in Africa, then raising Aniyah is NOT HIS plan.

That is very hard to swallow. Even harder for Marci than me.

And so we come to a fork in the road. Either we continue to love and shield Aniyah (as we are just naive enough to be certain that we know best!) or we trust that God has a plan and we have to fully submit.

Oh it hurts. My heart aches as I write these words. I miss our dog, I am sad to see everything getting packed up, we will miss our church, our friends and neighbors, but this is a monumental different weight and sadness.

Because tomorrow, Aniyah is going home.

February 14, 2025/ 12:43 PST/ North Bend, WA