Ambiguity

We leave Ecuador in a week and still do not have our visas to return. Our lawyer doesn’t seem too concerned. So, there's one person.

One of the most exciting/challenging/infuriating things of cross-cultural living is the level of uncertainty that is always just under the surface. 

You can just click into automatic in your home country. You know what you'll find at the grocery story, if they'll have the part when your car breaks, what your commute will be like, consistent electricity and water. Generally, things work the way you expect them to.

We have no idea what it means if we don’t receive a visa.

Can we still return in November?
Do we have to wait until January?
If we’re out of the country when it’s approved, will we still receive it?
Would we have to start the process over?
What does it mean if we’re rejected completely? Can we come back? When? For how long?

I don’t throw out those questions because we’re panicked. We’re not. The worst that could happen is we’ll have to go back to our home, to our bed, with our dog laying at the foot of it. The only thing lost would be our plans. 

I mention the questions because things would be different if, like most missionaries, we had sold everything, raised a bunch of money, then moved our family to go where we believed God had called us. It creates all kinds of practical and spiritual questions.

As strange as it may sound, a life in missions is a life of "not knowing." It puts us in a place of dependency. It's a hard place. An exhausting place. And its the place where we need to be.