The Art of Lingering
The night is pure black. One lone bulb beams a welcome as our driver carefully turns towards it. Jay and I get out of the car; the surf pounds thunderously and the wind whips our clothes. The driver seems relieved to finally be able to deliver his charges. We don't speak his language nor he ours. In the distance we hear a familiar voice confirming that the six-hour drive from the airport has brought us to the right place.
The annual retreat is part of the yearly rhythms of a mission worker's life. Many years ago our children were young and we were the only ones in country with RMM. Doing ministry without much support was often intense and lonely. We began joining with other organizations for retreats taking place in various countries in the region. One year we travelled by bus through Syria to Jordan. Another year we joined the retreat in Egypt. Years later as workers joined our company we had retreats together in country, sometimes inviting guests for input.