I confess that saying good bye is difficult. We said good bye to my parents and grandmother on Friday. My grandmother, who we call Nana, looked at me after giving her one last hug and, after saying I would see her in a year she said, “John, I’m 88 years old. There aren’t too many more days left for me. But we will meet again in a better place.”
I confess that I found my throat getting tight after she said this. On one hand my heart was heavy at the potential thought of never seeing Nana on this side of glory again, and on the other hand I was feeling excitement and joy that I will get to celebrate with her for eternity.
I confess that we boarded the plane with a very excited 2 1/2 year old. Hosea and Moses both did amazing on all three flights. We actually had people complimenting us on how well they were behaving.
I confess that we have made it to our new home, and we have been welcomed in with arms wide open. Our mentor stopped by and dropped off some food and gifts from members of the church. We are excited at this point to get past the jet lag, and on to really being able to be “fully” here.
I confess that I am humbled by the faith of others, whether it be my grandma, or those at Millbrook with arms wide open, or those who have followed God to partner with us so that we could come to Northern Ireland. It seems that every day now, I come before God lacking adequate words to thank and praise Him.
I confess that I serve a God of acceptance, and everyone deserves to know Him.
I’ve made my confession. Go make yours.