Goodbyes...

Today I am pondering goodbyes. I am beginning to see that much of life is about saying goodbye...and learning to do it well.

Goodbye can mean "I’ll see you soon" or “I’ll see you in heaven,” and everything in between. In the past several years this has become more poignant as I’ve been parted from dear friends that I have loved and ministered with. Some have been called to minister elsewhere nearby, some have been sent on grand adventures of faith hundreds of miles away. Others have lived out their days here on earth and have been called to their eternal home. And most recently, I have had to say goodbye…one by one…to my children and their spouses as they have followed their given paths away from home.

My preparation for these goodbyes began many years ago with “seasons” of friendship. Can you look back on your life and notice that there were people that you were closely connected with - perhaps in school, or while your children were small, on a job, or in ministry - but as time and life’s events took your journeys elsewhere, the proximity of that friendship was gone? I’m not talking about having a falling out, but perhaps more of a calling out. At first I would try to hang on so tightly and force a relationship to stay, but I began to see that some relationships were there to nurture a season of life, to truly just propel me on to the next leg of my journey. There are also some that, despite distance, will be life-long and, truth be told, I don’t think we get to pick which ones are which.

Every one of us has a journey. If I love you I will walk the stretch of the road with you that is mine to walk and when the crossroad comes, I will bid you farewell…praying that you do “fare well” wherever you are called. Your life is not mine to hold tightly, but it may have been mine to encourage for a time. And at the end of the day, I just want to be faithful to that for I am so eternally grateful for those who’ve walked those stretches of road with me. It may have been a matter of years or just a few conversations, but each life that’s touched mine has made an impact. Even those that have caused hurt and pain have been used for God’s greater purpose.

Years before my children ever had the glimmer of a calling, be it marriage or other life adventures, I began praying that I would be able to let go of them gracefully and graciously. (Grace being the operative word.) Especially being a mom-at-home, my life and “career" has been so closely identified with their lives. But my goal as a parent was always to propel them toward adulthood. Even when they were younger, to challenge them to look beyond immediate gratification and not just learn practical skills for adulthood, but begin to have a vision of themselves as, in their case, a man and as women. It was so good to choose to celebrate their milestones, to allow for rites of passage that were meaningful and intentional, but in the back of my mind was the knowledge that one day all of this must culminate in “goodbye.”

And how intensely do we love our children? I have often thought of mine as “burned into my heart"...like a brand. My heart is forever changed by having given birth and by having done life with them. The joys of victory and the agonies of defeat…and all the ordinary days in between. I love them in ways that words fail to fully capture and that is fitting, because they were never meant to be captured. True love is huge and holds it’s hands outstretched, it is never tight-fisted. My kids were created by God for their own journeys and if I love them, I will shout, “fly…fly!” even if the next minute I must bury my head in my hands and cry. I must bear the sorrow of goodbye so I can watch them stand, and struggle, and grow, and embrace all that life has for them.

And, so too with my friends. Sometimes I have seen God take a friend out of my life so that I will learn to stand without them, and stand more fully in Him. Or so that I will have eyes to see a new relationship that He’s ordained for me. Even as an extravert I can get pretty content with my little circle of close friends and fail to see someone new who is just waiting for a fresh companion. And most often, He is calling my loved ones to a new adventure and I can either focus on my sadness at having to say goodbye, or love them well through the sadness by continuing to encourage…standing at the curb-side waving with all my might and wishing them a safe and amazing journey.

As I grow older, I have begun to see the beauty and purpose behind the ebb and flow of life...and lives. It’s sole purpose is life, and life to the full. A seed must fall to the ground and die in order to bear much fruit. This is the order of life. And so often this means that my ordering of life must die, and I must learn to say goodbye in a way that joyfully says “fly!” When someone leaves there is always a hole left behind, but isn’t that where new plants are nestled? In fresh holes? The trick is not missing new blooms because we’re still staring down the road at a set of taillights. Do we acknowledge our sorrow? Of course. But we can bear it a little better each time as we come to see that life is not about hanging on to things or people.

So today as I began the day skyping with my daughter and her kids in Arkansas, then did the same with a beloved friend in California, and also learned of a dear couple who have been called on to their next adventure, I have stopped to ponder all this, to let the sadness wash over me with each goodbye, and at the thought of that "farewell" to come...and I know it's all going to be ok. Goodbye is ok, even when we love much and it hurts.

We can love deeply and learn to say goodbye, because sometimes they are the same thing.