When I told people I was moving thousands of miles away, on the other side of the ocean, to a land where I didn’t speak the language, far from everything familiar, the response so often came, “You’re so brave.” Or, “Aren’t you afraid of what could happen?”
In many ways, moving to the other side of the world requires facing fears. I have to say some “normal” fears rarely enter my mind. I’m not so concerned about things happening to me in daily life, about travel, about crossing the street (which can be a pretty scary thing!). But it can also cause a whole new pile of fears and uncertainties to creep in.
Will people forget me? Will I be able to really adjust? Where will I fit?
A few weeks ago, with several of my teammate we discussed our biggest fears being in China. For me, the biggest fear has long been the same—something happening to my family and not being there.
Two days later, my grandpa died. My grandfather—the man who I hurried across the gravel driveway to see every morning as a small child. The man who taught me all about cars, boats, houses, James Bond and John Wayne.
And there I was 7000 miles away.
Yet, as I set on my bed crying I couldn’t shake the unmistakable peace upon me.
My word for the year is dependence. And I realized I had to depend that my Father was taking care of my family. I had to realize I’m not in control. That the hands that hold the universe hold me and my family—even on opposite sides of the world. And He tells me, “Do not fear, for I am with you.”