A Jon Post

In just one week we’ll get on an airplane and begin a voyage back to the country where we were born (except Anaya).

It’s exhausting getting prepared for that. Trying to put things in order, say goodbye to people here, making sure all of my responsibilities are taken care of. It’s much, much easier to simply put it off… not really think about it… and let it just sneak up on me.

I was standing next to a hospital bed this week and it hit me that João Filipe (the man on the bed) and I have this in common.

It’s exhausting getting ready for this.

He too will be taking a voyage soon. He too is faced with saying goodbyes, preparing for his children (he has 4), and passing on his responsibilities to those he can. He too is exhausted and would much rather simply rest and let the voyage come to him.

His voyage is different than mine. His has no return and his destination is much sweeter than mine. João Filipe will not long stay tethered to this earth. He too is going back to where he was born. And the Jesus to whom he often mutters incoherently is waiting with open arms.

I stood next to his bed for what seemed ages last week. Resting my hand on his younger brother Mateu’s strong shoulder who attends him day and night, I prayed deep, yearning prayers for comfort and for rest. João Filipe’s times of lucidity are short though never without a smile. When he is aware of his surrounds he lights up the room with his praise to his Savior and his gratitude for the visit (I am not sure whose visit he means, mine or Christ’s).

So this week, as I prepare to say goodbye to friends I may never see again, as I prepare my home, as I prepare my family… I remember João Filipe and his smiles. I remember his battle and his time to prepare. I remember how exhausted he is. I remember his brother’s tears…

Get ready João Filipe…

There is nothing better than your coming voyage.