The Revolving Door

Yu Bin was late to class again last week. This time, it was about thirty minutes past when he graced the classroom. I asked him, “Yu Bin, why are you late?” He grinned and said, “I talked to God. And He said to me, you can be late!”

I couldn’t hold back laughter. Well, I thought, if you need an excuse, just tell the pastor that you have been praying! And who am I to argue with God’s timing?

…

Wednesday was Yu Bin’s last day at the school. It happened earlier than expected. His father decided that, since they are moving in a month, it would be better for Yu Bin to help pack at home in the afternoons. That made sense. But it was still difficult when he said, “I will not come tomorrow. Today is my last day. We will move soon to another city.” I took some candy from my desk, as a small goodbye gift. I shook his hand and told him how proud I was. He walked out the door. Watching him leave, I couldn’t choke back the tears any longer. So I let them go.

…

Only three months in, I have already been saying a lot of goodbyes here. The young seminary student who was helping me with Youth Bible Study left us two weeks ago, to pursue a paid church position in another city. I called him the “young Pastor Lee,” as his family name is also Lee. I held his two-year-old son during church, so that he could sing with the praise team and his wife could tend to the baby. We became friends, and I loved his whole family. I have missed his little son bringing me every “toy” he could find, including sticks and empty cups, and saying, “Zuzu.” That has no meaning. It was simply his endearing word for just about everything.

In a few weeks, Grace will be moving back to the States. She is the other teacher at the school. She was born in Korea, but raised in Hawaii. She has been a bridge for me between American life and Korean life. I have treasured her friendship as we share the daily challenges of teaching young children.

Other friends here have had situations arise, which have now limited our interaction. And, this week, it was Yu Bin—my lovable, skeptical, prized student.

There is a time for everything. And, in life, relationships come and go. I have seen and moreover felt the revolving door. You think I might be used to it by now. Besides, in the same way that people will cycle out, they likewise cycle back in. Sometimes they enter again in new and surprising ways. A godly lady once told me, “When you do God’s will, you can pick back up where you left off as if there were never any time or distance between you. That’s the beauty of friendships built on Christ’s love!”

Though sometimes, when you let go of the old, you make room for the new. As in other areas—by letting go of what you cannot have, you make room for what you can have.

This doesn’t mean that goodbyes aren’t difficult though. Sure, we often say as Christians, “You never really say goodbye! We will see each other again in heaven! It is more like, see you later.” True, but that didn’t keep the people of Ephesus and the great apostle himself from weeping when they said farewell. “And there was much weeping on the part of all; they embraced Paul and kissed him, being sorrowful most of all because of the word he had spoken, that they would not see his face again. And they accompanied him to the ship” (Acts 20:37-38).

In a season when community has been small here, watching people leave has been particularly tough. I wonder, what does God have in store? For me, it is a matter of trust. Do I trust Him to provide everything—and everyone—needed?

I do have my “virtual community,” for which I am so grateful. God really did grace us when He provided Facebook and Skype. And my support network back home is strong. The 14-hour time difference has been tough at times, as I cannot readily call family and friends. But I know they would pick up the phone any time.

I can talk to God too. Jesus once said, “Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me” (John 16:32). That has become one of my favorite verses. A friend once told me, “Though you may find yourself alone, you do not have to be lonely.” That is so true. He is Immanuel, God with us.

In the play Madea Goes to Jail, Tyler Perry’s character Madea offers some humorous advice on relationships. She says, “I put everybody that comes into my life into the categories of a tree. Most people are leaves. They are there to take from you and also give shade every now and then. That’s all they can do. Don’t get mad if they can’t be something more. Some people are like branches. You must be careful with them. You think they are strong, but when you walk out on them, they break. And they leave you high and dry. But if you find two or three people who are like roots at the bottom of the tree, you are blessed. Them the kind of people who ain’t going nowhere! They don’t need anybody to see that they are there, but without them the tree won’t live. A tree can have a million branches, but only needs a few roots. When you get some roots, hold on to them. But everyone else—no matter how much it hurts, let ‘em go.”

There is something of an art to relationships: seeking to love all people well, for however long they are in your life—while learning to hold tightly to the roots, allowing the leaves to be leaves, forgiving the branches when they fail you. I am also learning that the roots may not be the people you first expect. God loves to give surprises.

As God continues to prune my community here, I am learning to trust Him more in that process as well. I can rejoice—Yu Bin wasn’t talking to God before he came into my life. Now, he does. As he leaves, he is in good hands. God will finish what He started. In the same way, I know He stands guard over the revolving door—allowing people to come and go as He pleases. Lord, increase my faith!