For the last several months, the Ivisan family has lived next-door to us. Their three children are close in age to ours, so you can imagine the constant hum (or roar ) of activity every afternoon as six kids run in and out, doors slamming, someone shouting or laughing. They rode bikes and scooters, swam in the lake, built forts, dug holes, sledded down steep hills and dragged each other through the snow. They played with each other’s toys, wore each other’s clothes and ate each other’s food. Anytime the Ivisans left to do errands or make a visit, Christian would grumble, wishing they didn’t have to go.

But now they are gone for real, heading toward their mission assignment. After we all had a lively breakfast together, Jason drove them away toward the airport, the children and I waving until the van was out of sight. I shepherded the despondent little group back into the house, and we tried to think of what to do now. Thankfully, kids are flexible, and ours are remembering what they used to do all day before they had friends next door. Things are quieter around here, but it’s okay.

How long until it’s our turn to leave? Good question! The answer is a definite “We don’t know!” Jason got his work permit from Papua New Guinea, but our visas haven’t come through because of an issue that seems like it won’t be resolved quickly. So we learn to say goodbye from the perspective of the ones who are staying, praying that soon we will be the ones leaving.

Please pray with us that we will be in step with God’s timing—busily waiting and ready to go when the time is right — as He opens the door.

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