Messy Mercies

Transition is messy. I’ve cried more times than I’d like to admit in the three weeks I’ve been back, mostly in private and just a tear or two before something beautiful bursts the bubble again, like the sound of church bells or the smell of flowers I hand-picked in a field. At work I’ve been moved to a new classroom. Half of me is mourning the old one that holds so many memories, and the other half of me is excited for an escape to this much cozier-feeling room. Getting to hang out with friends I’ve missed over the past year is a boon to my soul, but then I miss those I got to know better this past year, like my small group and Amanda’s family. Thorsen and Eva no longer call me to dinner with their sweet giggles. Plus, there are giant holes all over town where people left, and even though I said a “proper” good-bye to many of them before I left last summer, I still somehow felt swindled out of their presence in my life. See? Messy.

I found this verse in Mark 5:19 this morning, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and how he has had mercy on you.” My first thought was wishing I had seen it a year ago because it could’ve been a great anthem for Home Assignment. My second thought was how much I looked forward to returning to this home here in Germany and how here too I have friends who should be hearing about what God has done for me. His mercies, though often hidden in the mess, are new every morning.

So how has the Lord shown me mercy in this transition? I see evidence in the friend who has walked the same road as I have for the last 12 months, so she gets my tears and I understand hers. His mercy showed up in an email from a former student about to enter high school, asking if I would consider a mentoring relationship with her. (We’re getting together tomorrow to talk about it.) The arms of a long-time Kanderner who has walked her own transitions over the years gave me a touch of his mercy. I tasted it on Thursday when my prayer group gathered around my table for the first time since before the Pandemic, and we read Psalms together and prayed for our hearts, our school, and the world. His mercy is humming right now under the window in the form of an air conditioner, keeping the sweltering humidity out of at least one room in my house. 

In no way do I mean to negate any of the hard or rotten or terrible aspects of transition. They stink, and often there is no way around them; in the wise words of the Bear Hunt song, sometimes you have to go through it. But in my constant struggle to develop thick skins and soft hearts (see my blog from a year ago), it’s useful to remind my heart of “how much the Lord has done for me.”

a Saturday stroll through the vineyards after a picnic with friends