The Things That I Miss

In a corner of my bedroom sits a worn-out, dark blue rocker/recliner.  Andrea saw it a few years ago sitting outside a fire-station ready for the garbage dump.  She rescued it and used it for a while in their house.  Absent a seat cushion, Andrea used an old pillow to fabricate a replacement.  When I moved in to my little one-bedroom apartment last year, she and David offered it to me.  I took it.  The stuffing was gone in one arm but the reclining mechanisms worked fine.  I placed a few more pillows in strategic places resulting in a very comfortable place to rest.  Now I often sleep in it, using my matted wool-lined corduroy winter coat (bought when I was in college) as a blanket.  Sleeping with my upper body a little more elevated has reduced my morning nausea.

Other than the occasional nausea, I’m surprised that my growing cancer hasn’t yet pestered me with more serious symptoms, and even more surprised that I'm still here.  I was asked recently how I felt.  I replied, “I feel like a dinner guest who has finished his meal and said all his goodbyes, then an hour later he’s still there!”  Well, after nearly nine months, I finally got another PET scan done yesterday to measure the cancer’s progression.  However, I probably won’t get the results until next week.  In the meantime, I’ll continue to read good books, enjoy my family, interact with friends, share my testimony, pray for the needy, and follow my treatment plan of eating appetizing foods!

But often, in the evening hours, while resting in my blue recliner, my thoughts go back to the Philippines.  Maybe only other missionaries can fully understand the effect God’s calling has on our hearts and the void that exists when we are not physically present in the place and with the people whom God has called us to serve.  I spent most of my adult life partnering in ministry with dear Filipino friends, sharing the gospel in faraway places, discipling believers in our growing churches, and seeing God at work in the lives of those whom He has called out.  While I have enjoyed many things here in the U.S. during the past year, my thoughts often drift back overseas to the land and the people that I miss.
 
I miss the evening tropical breeze, and the gentle swaying of coconut trees.
I miss the waves of green harvest lands, and the white powdery ocean sands.
I miss the neighborhood 'sari-sari' stores, and house-worship on bamboo floors.
I miss the fellowship of my Filipino friends, a oneness of accord that never ends.
I miss the proclaiming of God’s Word, approachable people who’ve never heard.
I miss the delight of a responsive heart, eternal truths ready to impart.
I miss the glad voice of God’s Spirit, Good News to those who hear it.
I miss the joy of Bible teaching, receptive minds daily reaching.
I miss the planting in faraway places, new churches of smiling faces.
I miss the miracle of a reborn soul, a broken life now made whole.
I know God understands, when I lie awake at night, and my thoughts turn to this,
the deep longing within, the tender ache in my heart, for the things that I miss.