Good morning! It’s a rainy day in my part of the world, a day where I need to “remember the signs.” I hop you’ll join me at A Life Overseas today, as I resume blogging and enter back into this space.
When I was four years old, my parents thought they may not be able to continue living in Pakistan.
They were tired. They were discouraged. They felt they had seen so little, for so much work. Mom and Dad were getting ready to go on a furlough and wisely decided not to make a decision until they had reached the United States and had a chance to process and rest.
It was while at a summer linguistics course that my dad had a renewed sense of purpose, a reawakening of his ‘call.’ While reading the book of Acts, he was struck by this work that began so long ago: The work of reaching out with the message of the gospel.
I learn this as I begin to reread my mom’s book. It is a book about the mission work that was started in the Sindh area of Pakistan by my parents mission, soon after Pakistan’s birth and independence. It is a fascinating history full of names and people who I know. Not only does it read as a historical account, it also gives me insight into my parents as a young couple, beginning with a journey by ship to this new country.
I read about my dad building a septic system with one page of simple instructions; about how three couples with five kids between them lived in two rooms; about a Hindu friend bringing them keys one night to a new house, urging them to “Quick, come put the lock on so Muslim neighbors don’t take it!”
I read about death and discouragement, about times of miscommunication and trial, about raising a family in a country far different from the one they left.
I read, and I remember. Read the rest of the post here at A Life Overseas.
On this Monday, what are your stones of remembrance?
