Learning to Say Good Bye

As Eric and I prepared to move overseas for a significant period of time, we received A LOT of training on transitions and good byes. Since coming to PNG in January, I have found that saying good bye well is a natural part of Papua New Guinean culture. When we left the village on the coast where we lived for four short weeks, we had a farewell dinner with our church and another one with the family we stayed with, complete with speeches and gifts.

For the past six weeks, I have spent every weekday morning with 22 students from all over PNG in a class to give them “initial skills” in various components of English. The course ended with a graduation ceremony on Tuesday afternoon, but I was unable to attend because I teach at the primary campus in the afternoons. I wanted to say good bye to all the students, though, so I joined them as they practiced the song they sang for graduation before I left for lunch. They sang a beautiful song about unity and love in Christ.

Photo by Anita McCarthy

As soon as they finished singing—before I could even clap—one of the students said they wanted me to stand in the middle so they could all pray over me. First I was asked to share something with the students (it is culturally appropriate for both parties to give a small speech when sending a person off), and then one of the students said a good bye message on their behalf. All of the students then gathered around me while one of the pastors who attended the course prayed. It was such a moving way to say good bye to people who have established themselves in my heart after only six weeks.

After the prayer, I shook hands with everyone and prepared to leave, but another one of the pastors wanted to walk me to the edge of the Training Center. He was one of the first people I connected with in the course and one of my favorite students. He said, “One thing the pastor prayed for you was about children, and I wanted to tell you that I am going to add that to my prayer list. You have been married for a long time and don’t have any children yet, so I am going to keep praying for that.”

In the US, such a statement (and prayer!) would seem presumptuous in most cases. I had never talked to any of the participants about wanting children. However, this is a subject that has been on my heart for many months. Eric and I have always known we want to adopt. We have been waiting for the right time, and we have also been wrestling with questions such as, “Do we adopt internationally or domestically?” and “Should we live overseas when we adopt, or should we settle somewhere in the US?” When we came to PNG, these questions were still spinning in our minds without answers.

I don’t remember when I started to feel that domestic adoption from foster care was what Eric and I are called to do, but I do remember praying that God would give Eric the same passion because I knew it wouldn’t work unless we both were serious about it. About four or five months after arriving in PNG, Eric told me that he was ready for adoption and thought we should adopt from foster care. We were both very excited to get involved with foster care, but it was kind of a let down that we finally felt ready for the process of growing our family when we had just started our overseas ministry and will have to wait until we return to the US to take our first steps in this direction.

For the past few months, every time I see small children running around the playground near our house, sleeping on their mom or dad’s shoulder, or yes, even crying at the top of their lungs, my heart aches to have the same thing in my life. Eric and I both feel that being in PNG is a growth period that is necessary for us to be ready to adopt, and we are enjoying the time we have here, but it is still hard to have to wait so long to start a process that will probably still take several years once it’s been started.

So, when Pastor Tonny prayed that God would bless us like he blessed Abraham and Sarah as they cried out for children, and when Pastor Peter told me he is going to keep praying for us to have children, my heart was so full of blessing. They don’t know that we want to adopt, and they don’t know that it could be a several-year process before we have children, but I know that they are praying for our foster children that we will one day adopt. What an incredible blessing that in the midst of the stagnation we feel in the process of having children, we would find Papua New Guinean friends who are praying for the children we hope to have some day.

Pastor Tonny (photo by Anita McCarthy)

I left the Training Center feeling full of joy and a peace that is indescribable. I am sad to see these friends leave Ukarumpa to return to their homes, but Papua New Guineans definitely know how to say meaningful and precious good byes.