Counting the Cost

It's been a while - and not because I haven't had time. We are back locked down so I'm not going anywhere these days and I'm in the middle of my fourth set of school holidays since I last wrote. So why?

Let's just say Advent was rough and then I just didn't have words for what had happened and yet I've realised that it's not worth writing if I don't put my heart into it. And so. I didn't write.

Living thousands of miles away from home has never seemed like a big sacrifice to me. I've known clearly that I am where I am supposed to be, I've been able to travel back home whenever I wanted, and I've developed close relationships in Hong Kong with people that felt like family. So it was never a big deal. This pandemic has changed the ability to travel on demand though and now, with my move to Malaysia, I don't have just one country I can't go back to - I have two.

The rules in Malaysia are currently that (even though I have a visa) if I leave the country, even to go home, I will not be allowed back in. If I'm not allowed back in I'll lose my job and therefore my visa and so, long story short, unless I plan on leaving the country I have to stay put. That's been the reality since last March and honestly it didn't really matter too much to begin with but by the end of 2020 the sacrifices of living away from home were suddenly more real than ever before.

Anyways that brings me to Advent. Advent, this season in the church calendar where we remember the waiting for what has not yet been fulfilled; a time that juxtaposes starkly with all the celebratory pomp and circumstance of commercial Christmas; a time where we consider what it means to experience joy, hope, love, and peace even as we experience the reality of life where promises are not yet fulfilled. My community here in Penang was doing a retreat for the start of Advent over zoom. An entirely new experience for us all but when restrictions hit you either give up or get creative. So creative we were.

The second day of the retreat was the actual first day of Advent. That was the day that I got the message from back home that my Aunt had passed away due to cancer. It was all quite sudden. From being diagnosed at the end of September it was just two months - two months that I couldn't go home for. And so my Advent began with grief. 

Meanwhile, my friend Joshua Wong was continuing a battle with cancer that had started back when I was still in Hong Kong. He and his wife and their daughter were in Mexico for treatment and we were all praying for his healing. Believing that this miracle would happen. But it didn't happen (though many others did along the way) and my Advent ended with grief as well: he passed away on Christmas Day (which Malaysia time was right at the end of Advent). 

There is so much more to say about Joshua and his story. He was a significant part of my early years in Hong Kong and an incredible person in so many ways. The faith that he and his wife Chelsea lived out during this last few years is so beautiful and so real and so raw and so inspiring... but this is not my focus for this post.

Rather - Why didn't I write? Because my Advent was literally bookended by grief and loss and an acute awareness of a sacrifice that I have never really thought of before. I experienced all the rawness of what Advent can represent to a new and greater depth. I counted the cost of my calling in this season. It's incomparable to the cost that so many pay and yet each layer of sacrifice and obedience is costly and we can choose whether or not we will step into it. I remembered again that I must keep saying yes in each and every moment.

So, I took my time and started leaning in to the community I have here (I am so beyond thankful that I got the news about my Aunt during my zoom retreat - it really was such evidence of God's kindness to me to be surrounded by community at that time). I tried to forget about it all. I cried. I processed. And I avoided touching this until now. 

But I think it's time to start writing again. Another one of the yes's I need to say.