Comfort Along Uncertain Paths

Heather Owens

Leaving the mission field is sometimes the right thing to do, but it is rarely the easy thing to do. The invitation to write for Connections suggested that I reflect on transition and trusting God as Daniel and I wait for the Lord to direct our next steps in ministry. June 2023 marks twenty years since College Church commissioned us and sent us to work in Vietnam. It also marks our return to the States for the foreseeable future. Daniel and I want to allow our boys time to finish high school and transition to college. We also sense that our parents need us to be nearer for a season. At the same time, we have recognized that Hanoi Bible College and Seed Christian Resources (the publishing company we helped establish) might be strengthened by our stepping back and allowing others to take up the work. We are learning much about trusting God when the path before us is unclear.

Practically speaking, I am learning that a 10 cubic meter shipping crate only holds about 8 cubic meters of belongings. I have taped a 2x2x2 meter square on our floor and wall as motivation. For the past weeks, I have been deciding what will fit into that shrinking square and what must be sold or donated or discarded. Homeschooling resources, notes from my seminary studies, much-loved books and toys, and folders full of the boys’ stories and drawings have all gone on the discard pile. Most of our furniture has been claimed by new missionary families who are still bewildered about where to find anything. They are exceedingly grateful for our scuffed bunk beds and scratched desks. Bedding and linens and kitchen stuff must go next. Honestly, some days it seems that a house fire would be easier!

When I am weary of sorting, I remind myself that process is important. In the coming weeks, we will be leaving more than our home. We will say goodbye to our adopted country, our church in Hanoi, close friends, work we have cared deeply about, our routines, and familiar places. Daniel will no longer be an academic dean or a professor at Hanoi Bible College. I will no longer be a homeschooling mom or children’s ministry director. We are reducing more than just our books and belongings. We are letting go of a life. The onerous task of emptying a house forces me to reckon with these losses and to remember that God has been very good to us.

I am learning that grief and gratitude can travel hand in hand. Every time I put a beloved picture book in the give-away box or toss a stack of the boys’ watercolor paintings in the trash, I feel sad (perhaps a little bitter) but also thankful. Those items represent sweet moments reading stories at bedtime and messy afternoons with paint splattered everywhere. They are faded evidence of a life richly blessed. Again and again, I find myself moving from delight in a particular memory to sadness at the fleeting nature of our human lives and then to gratefulness for God’s goodness. The one constant in this topsy-turvy life of ours has been God’s steadfast love and unflinching faithfulness.

Life is full of transition. Whether we move internationally or live our entire lives in one town, we all face transitions. We age, our children grow and leave home, loved ones pass away, jobs take us to new locations, friendships ebb and flow. We grieve the losses, but even in our grief we cling to the goodness of God. Sometimes the losses themselves remind us that God has been so very good. He will continue to be good because he does not change.

One of the hardest parts of transition is letting go of all that is familiar without being able to see clearly (or even to imagine) what lies ahead. When we are shaken out of our comfortable, predictable grooves, we feel disoriented. In this disorientation, two things help us to find our way forward: memories of God’s goodness in the past and confidence in his unchanging faithfulness in the future. God has been good, and he will be good. This truth provides enough light to keep walking. However impatient we might be to know the details of God’s purposes it is enough to know God himself. He knows the plans he has for us, and those plans are for our good. (Jeremiah 29:11) We can trust him.

I would not recommend the pressure of reducing a home to 8 meters cubed, but there is something to be said for taking time to reflect on the many ways God has been good. If you are feeling discouraged by a loss or uncertain about the future, look through a photo album or a box of treasured items in the attic and recall forgotten blessings. Be grateful to God for those things and remember that he will never change. He is still good, and he is still taking care of us. This truth is comfort as we slowly find the path ahead.