I LIKE IT

When the invitation to Middle East University (MEU) came, I didn't have many questions.  I had never known Inter-Division Employees (IDE)--folks moving from one continent to serve on another--had any reason to ask very much.    

I remember  my dad, an associate secretary of the General Conference at the time, bemoaning the inquiries he'd gotten from potential inter-division workers:  "Can you get Skippy's Peanut Butter there?"  "What's the scuba-diving like?"  "How can I bring my dog?"  Even as a teenager I knew he prayed for workers who were simply willing.

So when it was suggested we make a pilot visit to MEU, I was surprised. Since when did we get a trip around the world just to check out an assignment?  I  urged Larry to go alone because I'd already made my decision; let them save the money for his budget.

He wouldn't go alone.  

OK.  I could make a small vacation of it, if that's the case.   Free upgrade to business class luxury.  Eighteen quiet flying hours to write to my heart's content.   And what a great way to see my friend Lori!   It's really not that hard to talk me into traveling somewhere.  Anywhere.

By the time we landed I was well-prepared for my adventure.   The flavors of  Lebanon--mint, hummus, lime, zatar.  The view from our dorm window across the treetops of the campus to miles of concrete--and the Mediterranean.  Unlimited fruit.   Ancient ruins in the rain.   Roaming at the whim of Leif's steering wheel, following  nameless roads into the high, open country of Lebanon.  Passing miniature cars sprouting rifles from every window.  (Lebanon's Independence Day is a good day for a favorite Lebanese sport:  bird hunting.)

The afternoon Leif, the president of MEU, suggested we visit the house where we would live  if we agreed to come.  For two days I'd been curled up in bed overtaken by a whopping respiratory infection.  But I considered house-visiting the one legitimate business reason for my visit.  So  I bundled up and shuffled into the car.  Just beyond the campus, up the hill a ways where the other staff houses lined the road, a narrow rocky driveway led down to a quiet corner among the trees and a miniature stone house in the process of being completely renovated.  

No snow-blowing this driveway.

I could hardly believe my eyes.  So this was the  "traditional Lebanese home" they had referred to!  Without the windows in yet, I could almost feel a Bible charade coming on, but with all the conveniences of new plumbing and fixtures, electrical central air and heat, three fully tiled baths like you can't even find at Lowes.  It's  the perfect size for the two of us.  The little place boasts a long and colorful history over the years, serving the Syrian soldiers who patrolled the area and probably a few other unnamed residents, all of whom warranted some drastic repairs.  But that's not what impressed me so much as.... 

The trees!  The campus itself is an oasis of green.  Ancient spreading trees.  Stately palms.  Grassy lawns.  All of it is a stone's throw from tight streets, blocks of apartment complexes and miles of concrete, asphalt and nerve-racking traffic.  But the unbelievable possibility of having  a house looking into a ravine of natural, unperturbed hillside carried more meaning to me than anyone could ever know.  A shy birdsong came from the underbrush.  A fig tree just  beyond the patio might even be strong enough for a...bird feeder?  

Now, where a woman lives is important and I've been very blessed among women!  I've enjoyed the privilege of raising a large family in the beauty and quietness of one of the most scenic corners of southwestern Michigan.  Five acres on a  Michigan scenic road lined with ancient oaks and maples.  A backyard of rolling forest that runs up against the edge of a pond.  The only place our boys have ever known as home.  When we moved to Berrien with two little fellows 27 years ago, I had asked God to confirm our calling with a place my family could call home.  He had answered so profoundly, so thoroughly...a story for another day.

But now, even as we were considering a new calling, a new place, I was touched with how thoughtfully He was speaking to me, meeting me with His confirmation of another task, another challenge.  In my mind I'd already accepted that we no longer needed a place to raise a family.  We didn't need a lot of room or a high-dollar conveniences.  I'd even accepted I could live in the city.  

But, in the midst of giant potential changes in our lives, I heard Him say, "I have confirmed your calling!  Here's a quiet corner in a faraway place that your heart can call home."   Of course the "nature" we look into is much different than what we've known, the banks of apartment buildings beyond the ravine will always remind us of why we're there.  But His care is as clear as ever.

All I could say through my tears was, "I like it."   I am sure God understood like no one else that what I like most is that He has spoken to me once again with such care:  My heart is safe to call this home.   I'm just as sure that Leif knew right there we probably would accept the call!

A place called home.