I’m where I don’t belong. To where I do belong, I can’t yet go. Yet where I don’t belong is where I’m from, and to where I do belong I’m a stranger, a foreigner.
Welcome to my world. Welcome to Limbo Landia- a place where there is neither yes nor no, only maybe. A place where containers and moving boxes sit with lids gaping, waiting to be filled like baby chicks waiting for mama’s return to fill their longing spaces.
Welcome to the life of an itinerant missionary family. We’ve been living in Limbo Landia for almost two years. We want to get back to where we are supposed to be; that place where in our hearts we feel God has purposed for us to be.
Yet here we wait. For what? To be sent. To be sent by the Church. To be sent away from friends and family to make our way, once again, among strangers. Limbo Landia is a paradox, not a paradise. Ask any of our kind.
In this land, life does go on. However it’s a treadmill existence of uncertainties:
When will our funds be raised?
When will we return?
Should I start packing now or wait another few months?
If it’s mid-school year, how do we transition the kids’ classes?
Will we be here for the holidays?
How many times must I hear, “Oh…you’re still here?”
Will I need to buy winter clothes? And if so, for only one months wear?
How many more refills must we request for medication?
(and the list goes on….)
We can’t just jump off this treadmill whenever we want but must wait until a change is effected. We are in constant stationary motion.
We can all become loco in this land if not for the one thing that is…
My God! And His Word. His promises supercede Limbo Landia and his encouragement extends everywhere. His prescription for pain and examples of others motivate the momentum needed in my heart.
I’m where I don’t belong. To where I do belong, I can’t yet go. Yet I know He is with me. Wherever and whenever. Even in Limbo Landia.