I never want to forget what the 2021-2022 school year was like and why it was that way. We struggled with the decision facing us—should Casey go back to the States for the year and try to work there while I stayed in Malaysia with the fellas to get #2 graduated? We talked through it and grappled with it a lot. Neither of us could imagine making such a big step. Neither of us could imagine being apart from each other for a whole year (and 1/2 way around the world at that!). Malaysia was still in lockdown so there would be no changing our minds or visiting each other that year.
In some ways it made sense and in some ways it didn’t. I remember the day when I really knew it was the right step to take. I listened and I knew it was right. The reality of doing the year on my own and closing down life in Malaysia by myself was so daunting, but deep inside there was peace. That peace never went away and for me, it felt like God was tangibly present for that whole year.
The day Casey left felt so hard. We walked him down to the van, helped load his bags and I cried many tears in the apartment parking lot. (It felt a little easier though than sending #1 off the year before–because I felt Casey knew America and could navigate it.) As we hugged, a neighbor I didn’t know from the other building jogged by. He was a brief witness to our emotional moment of separation.
After the van pulled away, the boys went back upstairs but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to go back to the apartment, empty of Casey. I wasn’t ready to go in my room and be in there without him (it is ALWAYS harder to be the one left than the one leaving!). I decided to walk, but even that felt so sad because we had been walking together. I walked one of our usual routes and wore my sunglasses so fewer people could see my puffy leaking eyes. The weather was just fine for a walk, but suddenly, out of nowhere, a rain cloud started dumping rain right where I was walking. Everyone out exercising rain for temporary shelter or an awning.
As I stood there under an awning, waiting out this ridiculous rain shower from NOWHERE, I saw a rainbow. When I saw it, I thought, “Hey, thanks God.” It was bone dry even just a few blocks away, but this shower dumped right where I was, and I saw a reminder of God’s promises. But it wasn’t over yet. Standing right next to me, waiting out this freak rainstorm, was this neighbor. He had jogged way over from our building a mile or so away to this same area (what??) and was stuck by this same storm in the same place (again…what??) He asked, “Didn’t I just see you saying goodbye to your husband?” I said yes…he asked how long we’d be separated. When I said a year, he was surprised but then he said, “Well, you have your kids with you. And don’t worry, it’ll go by really fast.” I was stunned. This complete stranger had this special message for me. I am sure he doesn’t remember this interaction, but I will never forget it. It felt like the God of heaven was reaching out and giving me the biggest hug in my deep moment of pain.
The year stretched our family in so many ways. It was hard and lonely for Casey. It was challenging and difficult for me. I personally learned a lot and experienced many new things (getting a motorcycle battery unhooked, charged, and reattached), selling a motorcycle and a car, snaking out a kitchen drain, to name a few. It hurt, but I will always be thankful. It’s for that reason that I chose the message “Difficult is good” to put on my arm. I may not like it and it may hurt, but it will always be used for my good.
We’re coming up on two years in the States, and that tangible presence of God is escaping me. I ache for that nearness and don’t understand why it’s harder to pin Him down. I need direction and I have questions, concerns, and pain and am begging for that rainbow or that random stranger—and it just eludes me. I wonder if it is me…am I not paying attention? Am I not being still? Am I being distracted by the intensity of life here in the States, trying to survive? Or is there something more to this?
I don’t think I have the answer but recently I have found that I need to pay attention to the small things. Maybe you can tell that I’m not really into coincidence and random events. I believe that there is a reason that certain things happen. For example, just a few weeks ago, Casey told me he wanted to go see a friend who was visiting in San Antonio. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go, but decided I would. The traffic was horrendous, and it wasn’t easy to get down there. By the time we had gotten 1/4 of the way there, I was wondering why I decided to go! But, as we got ready to travel back, Casey got hit by a bout of serious vertigo. Everything was spinning and he was throwing up incessantly. I had to drive home. I also had left two reuseable grocery bags in the truck, meaning to put them back in the car. I just hadn’t done it yet–for no good reason actually. Both of these things saved my husband (and his truck). One could chalk them up to pure coincidence or luck if one wanted, but I’m just not into that. I see that He’s right here, even when I’m not so sure.
Today I took Chase home a bit early from school and stopped at the drug store. We just had to take on a big cost of getting the truck transmission fixed, but wouldn’t you know it, they didn’t get the belt back on correctly for the gear shift! In the drug store parking lot, I put the truck in reverse and then I couldn’t put it into drive, or park, or anything. The gear shift just wouldn’t engage. I was blocking parked cars in (oh brother) and people who were trying to pass in the parking lot (good times). But I was able to scoot it over a bit and Chase called Casey. Chase walked home from there and then Casey was able to drive over, having borrowed a generous co-worker’s car. He crawled under and reattached the belt momentarily and we took it back to the mechanic. That wasn’t necessarily an enjoyable way to end the day, but as we discussed it on our way back to school, I felt cared for. This didn’t happen far away from home. We got help from someone and were easily able to drop it at the garage again. I also didn’t run into anyone in the parking lot or make anyone angry by blocking them in.
The silence is tough. It’s made some people I love turn away from God. They don’t feel that He has answered, and they don’t see His hand at work, even in the small stuff. Maybe they just chalk it up to “luck”. I guess it’s a lot about faith–and believing—when things are really hard and silent. I hope to always keep my eyes and heart open, even in the midst of trouble and pain. Because sometimes the small things just say, “I’m here…I’m with you always.”
sharonbernhardt 