I Wanted To Be In The Room

I wanted to be in the room. When William read the last chapter, I wanted to be in the room.

On the evening of March 7, I (Martha) stood at the edge of our front lawn with Maniosa, William, Reuben, Frank, and Martin, the five Enga translators who were in Ukarumpa recording the Enga New Testament. My father’s health was failing, and I was headed to the U.S. the next morning for an indefinite amount of time. They had come to say goodbye to me, share their sympathy, and give a generous gift. I thanked them for their thoughtfulness, and with tears in my eyes, I told them that I had wanted to be in the room when the last chapter was read. With great understanding they nodded their heads. I didn’t need to explain to them why that moment would be significant to me. I shook their hands and thanked them for coming, and with sadness, I turned around and went inside.

The Enga translators standing in front of our house as they say goodbye to Martha

Each year since Jacob was born, Adam has combined all the best video footage of that year into one yearly Boyd Family video. Since it is Jacob’s senior year, Adam decided that we should watch all our family videos starting from when Jacob was a baby. Over the course of the last few months, on any available Sunday night, we gathered around the TV to revisit our history. I loved doing this and looked forward to our Sunday nights.

But I was blindsided by the pain.

It was so hard to watch the earliest videos. My father looked so young. What had happened? Adam’s parents were in so many of the videos even though they lived on the other side of the country. We saw them that often? They were that involved? Missionaries never really talk much about the cost. I don’t mean money; I mean everything else. The cost of living overseas, away from family, away from a home church. The missing Christmases, birthday parties, and family reunions.

Martha's father with Jacob in 2005

Seeing what our life was like before we left for Papua New Guinea made me wonder what life would have been like if we had never left the U.S. It made me confront the moments that we’d lost. It made me think about the cost. I’ve done this before, but it was different this time. In December, Adam’s father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and we lost him in a matter of days. My own father’s health had been declining all year, and now I am in Los Angeles writing this newsletter two days after his funeral. This season of life has us facing the years we lost with family while in PNG.

And that is why I wanted to be in the room.

I wanted to be present for the culmination of why we came. I wanted to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears and remember…what it was all for.

There are a whole lot of things that feel really confusing and uncertain right now. But one thing I know for certain. I worship a good God. In our darkest moments, He has not left us. We have seen God’s grace and provision during these hard days.

With my father’s health failing this year, I woke up every morning and braced myself before opening my email, wondering if that would be the day I would need to go home. I worried about how it would all work out. Who would teach my classes? What would I miss from Jacob’s senior year? Would I be there for his high school graduation? For Banquet? His basketball season? How would I handle everything without Adam? I prayed for the miracle of not having to leave before June. I didn’t get that miracle, but I did get a window of time and a morning.

Martha with her father, Charles, last July

A few weeks before school break, I got an email from my principal requesting that I write up two weeks of lesson plans for students that would be in the village for the first two weeks of Term 4. I never plan ahead, and I certainly have never planned two weeks ahead. When it became clear that I needed to go home, it was three days before the beginning of a two-and-a-half-week school break and I had already planned for the first two weeks of school. If I was going to go home anytime during Jacob’s senior year and leave my teaching position, this was the window of time that would work.

On Tuesday morning, March 7, I began to make flight arrangements, but the flights were booked on the days I wanted to leave Ukarumpa. I could leave the following morning, but I felt that it was too soon. I didn’t have enough time to prepare. I was in despair. I literally asked God why he wouldn’t help me. When it became clear that Wednesday morning was my only option, Adam called and urged me to take it and insisted that I needed to go then. I was doubtful, but I hung up the phone and began a marathon day where I planned to be gone for an unknown amount of time.

I didn’t know it at the time, but God was indeed helping me. I landed in LA Wednesday night and arrived at the hospital on Thursday morning. I was able to spend a couple of precious hours with my father before he passed away later that afternoon. I was by his side.

God did not prevent my father from dying, but I trust that his timing is perfect. Looking back, I can see that God had been with me every step of the way.

This year has been hard, and Adam and I are grieving deeply. Adam was in survival mode before I ever left, yet the recording continues, and many wonderful people from the Ukarumpa Community are providing meals for Adam and the kids while I’m gone.

Despite all the hard things, I continue to believe that I serve a good God—a good God that can give you something back that you thought you had lost. I serve a God that wants to give me the desires of my heart. Lord willing, on Monday, April 3, I will return to Ukarumpa.

I will be in the room next week when William reads the last chapter. I will think about the cost, and I will remember that we are right where we are supposed to be.

We need a car for two weeks in June
We will be in the Southern California area for the last two weeks of June and are looking to borrow a car during that time. If you live in Southern California and can lend us a car for those two weeks, please let us know. Thank you so much!