As we sat down to dinner at a dear friend’s house the other night, our last meal together before heading west for support raising for an unknown length of time, I commented on the inukshuk statue she had on the table. I hadn’t ever noticed it before.

My friend asked if I knew that they were for.

“Direction?” I responded.

“Yes, for navigation.” She said. “Do you know why it’s on the table?”

The candles flickered in the silence.

“So you know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Cue watery eyes.


‘They’ told me the hardest thing about being a missionary is the constast goodbyes. As per usual, ‘they’ are right. These goodbyes aren’t easy.