A letter from Liz and Doug Searles, home from Poland
March 2012
Home News from the Searleses
“You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. . . . Make it a habit to say: 'If the Master wills it and we’re still alive, we’ll do this or that' ” (James 4:14-15, The Message)
Arabic-speakers say: “In Sha’Allah” (meaning, If God wills or God willing). James is saying, “If the Master wills it . . . “ We Searleses are in a moment of turning, an “if God wills” moment.
We are in the United States, our home away from our home in Poland, awaiting news that will shape where we go next: perhaps to international work, singing a new song; perhaps to work in the United States, in more familiar rhymes and rhythms.
Our children ask: “Will we get together this summer?” We answer: “God willing.” Our families ask: “Will you visit this year?” We answer: “God willing.” Our friends and colleagues in Poland ask: “When will you come back and say goodbye and sell your car and sort your stuff?” We answer: "Soon, God willing.”
We can only say with James: “If the Master wills it and we’re still alive, we’ll do this or that."
Our belongings are in Poland. We will return to pack up (sometime), say our goodbyes well, lock the door behind us, turn in our keys, and board a plane (for somewhere)—like wisps of fog.
Since last May we have been itinerants and occasional laborers—people on the move. We’ve visited scores of congregations and slept in a new bed almost every night. We’ve shared worship in diverse styles with diverse people in a variety of places and spaces, getting a brief taste of what your lives are like and sharing ours.
Itineration—traveling from place to place and speaking in congregations—is a heady, joyous sharing time. People say that itineration “puts a face on mission.” For mission co-workers, itineration “puts a face on senders.” As we crisscross America we meet those who make sending possible. We are gifted with the opportunity to share news of what God is doing in the world with those whose giving hearts and hands make that work possible.
And now, as we discern our next call, we are in residence in Louisville, in furnished “furlough housing” at the seminary, working at the PC(USA) Center downtown. We get up in the morning and go to work in an office building and get our coffee and boot up our computer just like millions of others in cities the world over. This routine is like slipping into a pair of old slippers long boxed up way back in the closet.
Furlough housing feels infused with the prayers and hopes and commitment of scores of missionaries before us. As culturally familiar as Louisville life may be, we (like them) are listening for a call to the threshold between cultures, where we daily learn to walk with partners in ministry—to walk in new shoes.
“You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow.” Amen to that, James!
“You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing.” So we are, wispily rising and shining in Louisville for a brief bit of sun and trying to make it our habit to say: “If the master wills it and we’re still alive, we’ll do this or that.”
God willing, we soon will discern a new path.
God willing, you—our senders and enablers—will continue to make opening new paths possible.
Keep praying with us, won’t you? Keep praying for vision to see the path where new walking shoes await us. And keep praying that those new shoes will fit us well and break in quickly.
Liz and Doug Searles, wisps of fog in Louisville, Ky.
The 2012 Presbyterian Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 277
Write to Doug Searles
Write to Liz Searles
Give to Doug and Liz Searles' sending and support
