arriving home safe.

“King Jehoshaphat of Judah arrived safely home” 2 Chronicles 19:1 NIV

Does arriving home safely mean the journey will be easy? Here's a glimpse of the very beginning of our journey to PNG from 2012 to help answer that question. 

six year old enthusiastic Jade ready to travel

We arrived at the Charlotte Douglas International Airport around 4:45am and were greeted by the beautiful faces of many that we love who more than generously helped us move our luggage from the JAARS bus to the check-in line inside. That was until the TSA sped over lightning fast and acted very nervous and concerned. (I guess too much of a crowd is a potential security breech... maybe that is what set off the ticket agents to delay our check-in?!) Anyhow, everyone took their places along the half glass wall leading to the escalators and Marty and I began our one hour and ten minute check-in ordeal. We still are not sure why it was a big deal. Though our passports were taken to the back by a supervisor who informed us of some new "form" for everyone traveling internationally with no return ticket. (Just so you know... we never saw the "form".) Perhaps our delay was our nine pieces of luggage, our exuberant crowd, our six one-way tickets to the South Pacific, or Marty's dark complexion and heavily tattooed arms, but yes - more than one hour later - US Airways finally began to weigh our bags. As the agents accepted bag one of nine onto the scale, our crowd threw up their arms and cheered! It was definitely the highlight of the entire trip. Marty and I are convinced that it was the delay that caused the agents to overlook our overweight bag being more than overweight (70 pounds was the limit and this was already a $140 charge!).

As the two ticket agents fought over us (yes, they were arguing over checking us in) they snapped back and forth at each other for our bags' weights. One ticket agent snapped to the other, "what's the weight on that one?" and the other replied, "just mark it at 68.5 already!". We see this as God's provision! 

The goodbyes were hard. But then goodbyes are that way, aren't they?? Watching your loved ones’ hearts ache and feeling your own being pulled to shreds is just something that hurts with a pain words can't describe, but God's presence was overwhelming. His Word is true!

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed." Psalm 34:18 NLT

We made our first trip through security (check point numbered too many to count): showing all six passports and boarding passes (making sure to match each correct boarding pass - we had 24 to pick from total - with each picture page of the correct corresponding passport) while removing 12 shoes, one hat, five jackets, five belts, emptying five laptops from five backpacks (each to be placed in its OWN plastic case to go through the x-ray machine), removing all cameras and electronics from said backpacks and Jade's carry-on - all the while stopping up the line behind us with great ease - and fighting to control tears. Gotta love it!

After a yummy breakfast with my parents (who God allowed to be there for a ten dollar charge as they were flying to OshKosh for AirVenture later that same morning) and calmed tears we made our way to the gate. Our departure was on time and our tears flowed again. Our seats were wayyyyyy in the back of the plane and everyone was stoked to finally be on our way. The excitement was palpable (except for Tia who was terrified of her impending death on her first-ever-flight and crying quietly). Though we ALL enjoyed a great laugh as our ever-so-feminine and very southern steward with exceptionally large lips, I might add, tried to calm a foreigner a few seats in front of us (after he continually hit the emergency call button overhead numerous times - all within less than ten feet of said overly-feminine- larger-than-average-lipped-steward!!), explaining the air coming from the vents was "Con. Den. SAAAYYYYY. Shuuuun." not smoke and that the plane was not going to explode into flames. 

We arrived just on time to the not-so-lovely (and now our least favorite place on planet Earth) Los Angeles International Airport where we begin to wait out what was supposed to be a very long 12 hour layover in terminal two.

Our first meal consisted of six, ELEVEN dollars each, not so yummy sandwiches washed down by six, THREE dollars each, sodas. Yeeesh. We decided on Burger King for dinner at this point (if we had only known).

And so the wait began. We made ourselves comfy at our gate and there we waited, waited, and then waited more.

I think it was around six or so California time (nine pm Carolina time) that we decided we would allow ourselves food again, and so BK it was.

Our gate began to grow more and more crowded, and shortly before boarding was to commence, we began the normal potty patrol routine. I briefly remember between the lines and sinks and such, Miriam glancing my way from across the now more than ever familiar ladies bathroom in terminal two, letting me know her nose was bleeding. It was just a regular nosebleed at first and nothing to concern anyone (the cabin air is dry and she had shed plenty a tear throughout the day). However, after returning to our gate and sending Taylor and Tia to retrieve multiple stacks (I imagine we went through about a foot worth in height) of BK paper napkins / serviettes through the ever steadily growing crowd we began to get more and more concerned. Virgin Air sent over a travel nurse and gave us some tips until they realized we were flying Air New Zealand. (Then the nurse disappeared!) I vividly remember a couple across from us began to grimace as many other oddly did the same. (I suppose if I step back and try to imagine what we looked like then maybe the looks were not so odd?) Next, a lovely lady from either the land of Oz or New Zealand tried to ease our every growing concern, sharing her stories and experiences about her son's past problems with nose bleeds. Shortly after we watched this same lady (she was at the very back of the boarding line) pass through the front of the line and disappear to get on the place, Air New Zealand agents piped in letting us know that they would not allow us to travel until paramedics okayed Miriam would be safe at 30,000 feet. Of course, LAX paramedics were at least 30 minutes away and the airline was beginning to make final boarding calls. Tears flowed yet again and anxiety grew. We felt stuck, alone, and scared. Mostly scared for Miriam's safety.

The paramedic showed (what time? I dunno...), and was at the very least NOT CONCERNED at all, informing us it was just a nosebleed. Well, by the time we had clearance for Miriam to fly again, the second and only other flight for the night was boarding its very last passengers. Air New Zealand said, "sorry" and we began to fumble trying to find a way to get unstuck. I asked the airline agents about using the internet, and they shuffled me to a kiosk - that didn't work. We were clueless at what was next. I called our ticketing agent and she said the same thing as the airline, "sorry". However, she did add that her husband and her had guests over and he should have never answered our call. This added greatly to our stress levels. Just talking about this (and I know the outcome) still makes my heart race a bit. I think what happened next is me mouthing off something nasty, quite loudly, to Air New Zealand about their unwillingness to help us with internet access.

Marty was tending to Miriam. We swapped places, and Marty vented to agents... who basically told us they would help us to the baggage area below to retrieve our bags and help us outside the terminal (they would rebook our flights for 24 hours later, but we were on our own to find a way from Australia to PNG with Air Nuigini). Yes, they were just kicking us to the street. Meanwhile, Jade was out like a light (Praise God!) and I vividly remember staring into Taylor's exceptionally bloodshot eyes. Some things just stick in your head. Her pitifully swollen eyes were something I will never be able to remove from my memory. I remember feeling total despair. Marty was back and forth on the phone to different family members, and then had another discussion with the airline agents. Maybe it was Marty's more polite conversation with the airline agent or Taylor's pitifullness... maybe it was everything all together, but suddenly I was being swept away to the Air New Zealand first class lounge to use the unlimited high speed internet access. I stomped my way up the stairs (yes, stomped) and into a lush room full of yummy smelling passengers drinking red wine while they watched big screens and the panoramic view of the tarmac. I am sure that I was a sight to them all...

Of course the first thing I did first was login to Facebook and request our urgent prayer need. Duh. :) Next, I proceeded to try to look up rescheduling our flights with Air Nuigini. What I found was dead end after dead in. I mean it was as though my heart and life had been removed from reality and was being stomped to its revolting death over and over and over again. Once again I felt hopeless. All I could find out about the Air Nuigini flight rescheduling were charges that added up to about three grand. Money we didn't have.

By the time I left messages with three different Air Nuigini agents in three different countries (who by the way never returned my calls - another duh - I think), and checked Facebook again and then headed back down to reality in the regular terminal leaving my wine-sipping fellow Air New Zealand passengers and their weird looks behind.

Another vivid memory I have is letting Marty know what I had found about our three thousand dollar future charges, and watching him explain through choked up words and possibly a few tears to the Air New Zealand agents, what our situation was. Here is where another miracle occurred. All the sudden, out of nowhere and by God's mercy alone, Air New Zealand had a change of heart. They went from chunking us onto the streets of LA to escorting us to the Hilton for the night. Yes, the Hilton. We traveled, much in shock, with the Air New Zealand escort out to the main ticket counter where we were greeted by a supervisor with a new travel itinerary (including newly and FREE rescheduled flights with Air Nuigini), dinner and breakfast vouchers for the Hilton, calling cards, and the notification of not one but two reservations - all paid in full by the airline. This coupled by the airline holding our luggage for the connecting flight 24 hours later, the fact that at this point Jade was still sleeping, and Miriam's nose bleed was just about completely dried up made it easier to breathe again. So off to the Hilton we went. Needless to say, we didn't die (though we felt close to death) as we departed on the shuttle to the hotel. LA is crazy, y'all. 

We settled into our rooms at the Hilton, extending our checkout time until 6:30pm (after all, the Hilton is nicer than terminal two!), picked up a couple of overpriced pizzas (thanks to Air New Zealand vouchers), scoped out the laundry area for our clothes in the morning, and updated Facebook with our praise to God on how our night had ended. All was well, including Starbucks muffins for breakfast and the cartoons watched from the feather duvets.... until the throwing up and diarrhea began around noon the next day. First Miriam, and then Taylor.

And the Facebook status for prayer was updated again.

The afternoon that had barely slipped by the day before now flew by as Miriam and Taylor took turns in the one bathroom we were down to (only extending our checkout in one room). The afternoon slipped by as we waited on extra laundry (because of the digestive problems) to dry. Marty and I were convinced that we were the worst parents ever... we had no choice but to check out and try to make our flight. The despair from the night before was nothing now. We were completely and utterly hopeless... convinced there was no way the girls could travel and us forcing them to try was our only choice. I have never in my life seen Miriam and Taylor so sick. Not before this and not since. If we were at home, we would have taken them to the emergency room for intervenes fluids and anti-nauseous medication. It was that bad. But we weren't at home and so at the last minute possible we drug them to the curb of the Hilton at LAX (where I did not even attempt to stop Taylor from laying face first on the concrete) and began the saga of public bathroom puking that lasted until we boarded at 9:45 that night.

Those three hours went by so fast... running behind one kid and then another to bathroom after bathroom while at the ticket counter, going to security and then leaving to the bathroom twice more, and then returning to security again. At one point just as we made it through security I watched as the girls ran barefooted (not able to take the time to put their shoes back on) into the ladies restroom in terminal two. I never sat down in terminal two that day… instead I walked back and forth, as inconspicuously as possible, between our carry-ons held by the un-sick and the bathroom until our boarding commenced. The hours slipped by, but somehow they lasted forever. I was completely unaware of everything that was happening around me and hyper-focused on holding hair from faces and standing outside bathroom stalls.

Journeys can feel that way, can’t they? Like time stands still and the only reality is your problem? Marty and I were at complete loss. We were determined to make our flight and continue on our way to follow God to PNG… but arriving safe doesn’t mean the trip will be easy.

So we did what anyone would have done in our situation (so we like to think) and told the girls to look at un-sick as possible. All we needed was Air New Zealand to tell us we couldn't fly again. God had miraculously provided for our way to PNG just 20 days before and we were going to do our part.

Long story short we boarded (and they called families to board first - which means the crowd was sparse for us as we found our way to our seats), Miriam puked again right after takeoff in the aisle and inadvertently onto about four innocent other passengers, and then… Air New Zealand spoiled us rotten. They moved Marty, Taylor and Miriam to the last row of seats on the plane (each girl had not one, but two bathrooms at her disposal) and showered them with attention, Ginger Ale, and crackers for a total of eleven plus hours.

Then…Auckland International Airport. Things I remember: you don't have to remove your shoes going through security; New Zealand toilets are fancy; Taylor's bag was searched twice and she was pulled to the side and questioned by security (hmmmm... maybe it was how pitiful she looked?); the kiosks that sell toothbrushes and toothpastes might steal your money if in fact toothbrushes and toothpastes are even in stock; and the sun shining outside across the beautiful New Zealand view was glorious. We have a great video clip of Miriam in the Auckland airport speaking complete gibberish that is a great glimpse of where our minds were at…

Then we headed to Australia and our people ate on the flight to (for the first time in 36 hours) and everyone was recovering nicely. Other things I remember: we were grateful that we had extra time to go through customs and security (the original two hours would not have been enough); the little green running man sign means exit not bathroom (LOL - found that one out the hard way!); Subway in Australia didn’t have oil and vinegar, Australians call lettuce "salad"; TSA likes to cut locks off of baggage (expensive TSA approved locks); the Brisbane airport is not allowed to sell ice (??); French business men don't always wear deodorant; everyone's feet stink EVENTUALLY and can be washed in a sink when necessary; and six year old Jade is exceptionally impatient when she is tired (this combined with our first change of clothes in more than 36 hours in a public bathroom led to quite a meltdown for her). The miracle from this leg of the flight is that even though Air Nuigini had indeed NOT rescheduled our flights and we were NOT on the flight to PNG, we left as scheduled. Yes, I admit even after our past experiences and miracles by God's merciful hand, a bit of panic still set in when we were notified. The Air Nuigini counter was operated by Qantas agents who felt great compassion on our pitiful children and pitiful us. Even though their computers told them that Jade had already flown the day before. Go figure. The miracle of this leg of the trip was that the Qantas agents somehow managed to book us all (for no extra charge) TOGETHER on the exact flight we thought we had originally been booked on.

Things I remember from our first flight to Port Morseby: holding Jade extra tight since all the business guys around us were taking endless shots of liquor; Taylor crying AGAIN this time into her pillow that has been soaked in some sort of lemon lime carbonated beverage; even when sparks fly out from under landing gear fires don't always follow; customs in PNG was simple compared to the USA, Australia and New Zealand; security at Port Moresby International Airport is cool with missionaries traveling to Ukarumpa (they waved us through the lines!); and Mosley, the SIL employee that met us, is now one of our favorite people on planet Earth.

We spent two days in Port Moresby rather than three (thanks to a gushing nose bleed coupled with the Burger King food poisoning episode). Praise God. While we were there, Taylor spiked a 103 degree fever, and Miriam and Marty suffered from dehydration. Good times were had by all.

Yada, yada yada… We then flew SIL aviation up to Ukarumpa were greeted by friends who had prayed us all the way from our start at Charlotte Douglas International Airport six. days. before. 

(In hind site it's pretty amusing to me that our first ever meal in Uka-land was at Burger Night.)

Things we learned from our initial journey to PNG: no one in our immediate Driggers' household was ready to fly internationally for a good long while; we don't like Burger King; we will always loathe LAX (especially the ladies bathroom in terminal two); God is still in the miracle business; and arriving safely does not mean that the journey will be easy.

I can tell you countless stories about difficult journeys. And I am sure that many of you, if not all of you, can do the same. Arriving safely doesn’t mean the journey will be easy. Not for King Jehoshaphat, not for me and most likely not for many of you.

It has been my experience that obedience to God and His calling takes persistence, grit and a whole heck of a lot of determination. Obedience to God and His calling can be costly… to us as individuals, to those who love us, to those who depend on us. Obedience to God can be painful… to us as individuals, to those who love us, to those who depend on us.

Arriving home safely doesn’t mean the journey will be easy. And our nosebleed/ food poisoning/ high fever/dehydration trip to PNG was just the beginning of our journey here in PNG. Even after arriving safely to PNG for our first term, things didn’t get easier. We were homesick, we changed homes, jobs and responsibilities, and our kids struggled – academically, physically and emotionally. We built friendships and then quickly lost many of those same friendships. We were lonely and confused, overworked and under utilized, and dealt with interpersonal conflict that we didn’t expect. We weren’t perfect (and we will never be; gosh dern it!) but we were obedient to God’s call. We stuck it out. Until we couldn’t stick it out any longer. We stayed the course… and when we found ourselves in a place where we couldn’t remain here in this place long term, God used physical illness to take us to Australia for a month so that we would leave PNG and then return again to know He was asking us to stay – long-term.

We found ourselves face to face with a clear calling from God to remain. Remain where the journey isn’t easy. Where the journey is hard, painful, costly, and inconvenient. 

To remain on this journey of obedience.  

“For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT

And He has paved the way for our journey with His own difficult journey.

"He was despised and rejected - a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed... because of His experience, my righteous servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for He will bear all their sins." Isaiah 53:3, 5, 11 NLT 

And we remain on this journey for this reason “Christ’s love compels us” 1 Corinthians 5:14.

We obey because we love Him. 

We love Him because He loved us first.

I want to end with this… this journey will carry us home. 

And we will arrive home safely. 

He’s called the shots. 

He wrote the Book. 

He knows the ending. 

We are the victors through Him.

But in the meantime, our job is to obey… trusting He is at work in the hard things. Trusting that He will bring us home safely even when the journey isn’t easy.

2 Corinthians 1:9 “we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely on God, who raises the dead”