"Debbie, Come back!"

This time we were going to be left with an empty nest.  Six years after Dan, Debbie was finishing up her last year of secondary education, at the same American school from which I, and later Dan, had graduated, here in Quito.  It was a busy year, and she had a lot on her plate.  She was very ill right before the end-of-the-year ceremonies, but managed to make it through, graduating with honors.

Debbie had helped out in the school nurse's office, and says that the two people in this position at that time (Kathy Jo Estes and "Cookie" Callaghan) were part of her inspiration in choosing to study nursing when she started at Azusa Pacific University.  (Cookie, also an MK, was my class-mate from grade school on!  Her daughter Jen became one of Debbie's closest friends.  Kathy Jo and I had raised our kids together in Shell for several years, so she was also an "aunt", and her daughter Dawn was also a special friend.)  Debbie admired and loved these worthy women, and I am grateful for the encouragement they gave my daughter.

I remember how, when Dan left, for some time after, if I saw someone that looked like him or even walked like him, I was liable to break down and cry.  The day he left, I sat in the airport and melted into tears. This time I said goodbye to my precious little girl at home.  (The airport had been remodeled, and one couldn't watch the planes leave from up close anyway.)  She and Germán left the house early in the morning, and later, when I heard her flight take off, I flung myself onto her bed and  sobbed out "Debbie, come back!" again and again...knowing she couldn't.  It hurt so badly!  My baby was leaving home.

Just as I had adapted to the absence of Dan, knowing it to be a necessary part of life, I eventually was able to adapt to Debbie not being around.  But once in a while...like the time I was in the supermarket, bending over a display case...I suddenly heard someone say "Mommy" in a voice that sounded exactly like

Debbie's.  I spun around...and she wasn't there.  It was another girl calling her mother.  I started crying right there in the store.  Germán found me a few moments later and thought someone had hurt me.  He was ready to defend me, whatever happened!  In this case, all he could do was try to comfort me.

One thing that helped me through the transition was knowing that Debbie was going to stay with my sister for the summer, and that when she left for the university, Dan would be there to receive her.  She has always looked up to her big brother, and his encouragement and moral support were such a comfort...to her and to us.  And, of course, we prayed constantly and trusted our Father to protect our children.

We did have the hopeful consolation that God would allow us to bring our kids home every year at Christmas time...and He did!  We were very under-supported, yet "somehow" they were always able to fly down.  In a future post, I'll tell you about an awesome, incredible occasion in which God really astonished us with the loving way He fixed things when we thought the kids weren't going to be able to come.  A miracle!!
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God Himself gave us our two children.  "Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him."  (Psalm 127:3)  BUT...we still are subject to the normal processes of life, aren't we?

Like it says in Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven; ...a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance..."  As much as we missed our kids, we knew that they had to learn to build their own lives.  We would have done them a serious disservice by trying to keep them tied to us... by not letting them go.

God knows what it's like to be a Father...and have his Son leave.  He understands all that we go through in saying "good-bye" to our children.  So He lets us know many times in his Word that He's ready to put his arms around us and let his Love and Peace seep into our souls. "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort."  (II Corinthians 1:3)
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          Missing your children?  Wishing you could see
          them more often?  The Father understands.    
                                                             So do I.....SO