This is How I Pause: I connect with God where the Journey is the Destination
Tina Moyer is a friend and colleague born and raised in America before she moved to Tanzania with her husband in 1990. Together with their three children, they served in missions in Tanzania and Zambia for many years. While still on the continent of Africa, God has re-directed Tina’s ministry these days to demolish spiritual strongholds and Set the Captives Free through prayer. Today she shares with us how she presses the pause button and connects with God.
THIS IS HOW I PAUSE: I CONNECT WITH GOD WHERE THE JOURNEY IS THE DESTINATION
Someone has said, ‘the journey is the destination.” Surely this is not true for most. The stress of the long plane flight or car ride, the frustration of missed connections or the 10th person who said, ‘there is no room in the inn’, can hijack an anticipated holiday. But the longer one travels, the more sound this sentiment becomes. When one adds that God joins us on the journey, the trip’s ‘wrong turns’ are recognized as the subtle guidance of the Shepherd’s staff.
Travel has enriched my life in incredible ways. I have wondered at the stark deserts of the Skeleton Coast in Namibia, oohed and ahhed over the rocky shores, and sapphire seas of Italy and Greece, been enraptured by the swordfish served to us in Thailand, thrilled by the giant manta rays in the Indian Ocean, and captivated by a lion pride on the hunt in the Serengeti. Wherever I’ve gone, I’m always mesmerized by the astounding variety of people I observe in airports or on the streets; so many colours, shapes, expressions, dress, and languages. After 33+ years of international travel, I still encounter a new scene, a rare plant, taste new spice or marvel at a strange creature. I am continually awed by God; his mind-boggling creative genius, and love of variety.
Maybe it began in my childhood – this passion for travel. We moved 3 times before I was 13, but it wasn’t always a pleasant experience. So, this desire to see new places, cross borders, converse with people of various cultures, and taste exotic dishes – where did this come from? At 11, I became friends with a Missionary kid from Zaïre (D.R. Congo) who explained the glories of living in Africa; she was counting down the days until she left the United States to return ‘home’. I was quite intrigued – could there really be a world that was better than America? The seed was planted then, I believe, and grew into a delicate vine that entwined so many of my future decisions.
When I met the ‘man of my dreams’, who was also a missionary kid from Tanzania, East Africa, this would-be traveller had a perfect partner to share it with. As we sojourned back and forth from Africa to the States, we planned out our trips with a stop on the way to visit a lovely city, a friend we had met in Africa, or a tourist destination. Despite the Greek taxi driver who conned us, the realization that we couldn’t get foreign currency in Malawi, the trek up and down the sweltering city of Nice for a clean, cheap hotel, or the thief in Zimbabwe who robbed us of our pictures of Victoria Falls, or the days spent in Malaria’s fever in Seychelles, or nearly capsizing in the ocean off Mozambique; the treasures we discovered always outweighed the frustrations. The rewards of adventure, encountering unique cultures, breathtaking places, charming hamlets, and ancient archaeological sites, never failed to thrill us.
Then a tragic event shook our world. In a tiny doctor’s office in Kenya, we learned our expected child would not survive the birth. After this terrible loss, the 5 days travel from the hospital of my shattered dreams to our mission station was a journey of torment and despair. In the following 3 years, I slowly sunk into depression, hating the thought of travelling. I even struggled to leave my lonely rat and bat-infested house in the rural village to greet a neighbour. Then amazingly, God reached into my dark world of anger and self-pity and rekindled this passion for travel.
My husband and I made a decision after that first painful Christmas, separated from the joys of a Christmas with children and family, to take our required month of vacation during December to give our hearts a distraction from the loss of our daughter. We recognized early on that being childless made travel easier. We were free to roam in wild places or far away destinations; sleep in caves, rent a motorcycle, or change plans unexpectedly when we encountered a fascinating place. We met other travellers along the way, often giving a lift to other ‘global nomads.’ Each person was interesting and unique; often open to conversations about God, life and meaning. The joy of these vacations became the year’s focal point, creating a rhythm of researching interesting destinations and planning the route early in the new year. We often lived off the anticipation of travel – eating beans and rice for months – prioritizing the bulk of our small income to pay for the December adventure.
Travelling became such a pause of joy–a way to connect with each other, with God, with the people of the world, that when our children finally came along, we didn’t stop. Our first daughter visited 7 countries before she was a year and now has travelled to 37 countries in the world. Today, all 3 kids take every opportunity to escape the predictability of ordinary life to visit a new destination, they are hooked.
When my husband and I needed desperately to pause from our 21 years of mission work for a sabbatical, it was instinctive to find a new place – where we knew no one – to connect again to God, each other and our kids. The destination was George, South Africa. There, unexpectedly, God brought healing from the wound of the tragic loss of our first child. The voyages (sparked by the loss) that assuaged the grief of 4 years of barrenness was the avenue God used to bring rest from the questions that had haunted my soul for 2 decades. The treasure of travel had come full circle. The years of wandering bred the familiar expectation that ‘chance’ encounters were the guidance of God’s hand towards our soul’s next destination. How natural, then, to accept the invitation of a stranger in the market to visit her lovely home in Leisure Isle, to pick up a book she recommended, to read the answers to the disquieting questions I had about God, life and faith. This information eventually transformed my health, my relationships and my world forever. It all happened in the pause of wandering that God met me most profoundly.
As I write this reflection, I realize that initially, I believed the point of travel was the destination–a chance to take a break and have fun. But now I, too, have discovered the truth of the sentiment that the journey truly is the destination.
