My Turn to Say Goodbye

By Jack Strutner

Well, the time has finally come. It has been a dream, come into reality, that we have moved to Kenya. This dream has taken so much preparation, so many years of schooling, so many years of holding up our plans up to God and saying “these are the gifts you have given us, how can steward them to serve you?” It is such a joy and privilege to finally put to use those gifts and training to serve the vulnerable and marginalized. 

Our moving to Kenya is the direct result of so many people who have poured into us and inspired us. I can still remember the day my mom sending me a video of children living with intestinal parasites my first year of college that would be the catalyst to completely change my life and inspire me to become a doctor. I can remember asking so many friends and mentors, “Are we crazy to want to move with our two young children to Kenya?” I want to acknowledge all those people here, but the list would be too many, but you know who you are.

Yet, with all that hope and anticipation, there was always a gnawing dread — I would have to one day say good-bye to my family. I used some of my most common coping mechanisms, procrastination and avoidance. Anytime I though about it I would say in my mind “That’s for another day. I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Well, that day did come. 

At our missions training course they imparted on us the importance of saying a “good good-bye”, an intentional time to say farewell to those closest to us. So one by one, I met with each of my siblings. I said my good-bye, but I rationalized that I still had a couple more days with them. I put my parents off for last, feeling a lump in my throat every time I thought about having to say good-bye to them. Then, the night before we were to leave, my mom handed me a letter. As I took the letter I began to feel my hand tremble and the tears well up in my eyes. Before long I was weeping. I don’t think I have ever wept like in my life. As I stood there tears flowing down my face in my mother’s arms I apologized to her for leaving, for taking her grandchildren halfway around the world, but continued to affirm that I must follow what Jesus has called me to. 

So here I find myself, still crying writing this, but also filled with a peace knowing I am right where Jesus wants me. When we look to Jesus, we see that He left ultimate comfort, experienced turmoil and insecurity, all in order to obey His Father’s will. That gives me reassurance that despite the chaos, the pain of leaving family and comfort, He is worth pursing. If Jesus is the example, hardship is to be expected, but there is so much beauty on the other side. All He asks us to do is to keep our eyes on Him, to pursue Him, and trust that He is more than enough. 

Huge thank you to my sister Kristen who drove me up to San Francisco to get all our luggage checked in.

The kids finally ended their sleep strike somewhere over the Sahara desert.

Micah finally decided to take a nap after the ten hour flight while on our layover in Amsterdam.

We made it to Nairobi!