What was that about?

Ever since we returned from Catania, I have had quite the mental battle. Questions have been flooding my mind. Did we do the right thing? Should we have ever went in the first place? Did I make a mistake going? Did I make a mistake returning?

I recently had a time of debrief with some trained counselors from our missions organization and can say these questions have been largely dealt with. That doesn’t mean I have a clear answer for all of them. But God has done some good work in my heart and mind regarding them. I’m grateful for that.

But one question that has been a constant, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about is this:

What was that about?

The questions in the first paragraph are good questions to reflect on. I am learning to listen to my Father’s voice. I am learning to follow the promptings of the Holy Spirit. I am learning the ways I am uniquely wired and gifted to spread God’s glory among the nations, a task we are all called to in some way. Therefore, I should reflect on these questions. They will only strengthen my walk with Jesus in the seasons to come. Throw out any thought over should we have or shouldn’t we have, the reality is “we did!” Which means God can bring good to me and my family and bring honor to Him through my time in Catania. Not only that, but my experiences in Catania will shape my current season as well as future seasons. That is what I am ultimately attempting to explore. That is what I mean by “what was that about?” In other words,

God, why did you have me in Catania?

The purpose of this post is not to answer that question directly. Two thoughts before I begin. First, I had to come to a place of recognizing that I don’t deserve an answer to that question. A new friend of mine, who happens to be a missionary in SE Asia, said it this way, “Eric, clarity is never a guarantee.” It’s true. God does not owe us anything. I’m not necessarily happy about that, but I have come to accept that. He is God and I am not. It is His prerogative whether or not He wants to reveal what Catania was all about to me. Secondly, I do not want to attempt answer the question, “why was I in Catania?” or, “what was that about?” I simply want to share some reflections I’ve had about our time in Catania. Specifically, I want to share why it was worth it, regardless of whether or not I ever fully understand why we went. Because it was worth it. And here are some of the reasons why.

My kids see the world different.

I remember a specific moment while being commissioned by Noble County Community Church, where I served as an Associate Pastor before leaving for the mission field. I distinctly remember the pastor praying over our family and saying something to this effect, “God, we pray for the Harbin kids. We know that every move you have for Eric and Rebecca, you also have the kids best interest in mind. In fact, this move could very well be about Moriah and Isaiah.” That prayer has never left my mind. Not only that, I have been convinced that God did something in my children while we lived in Catania. Even while we were in Catania, my two oldest kids would always pretend they were in different countries. They recognize the world is so much bigger than their passport country. Recently, my three-year-old son was telling his mom and me that he lives in Africa. We asked him what he does there. He went on to explain that he tells people about Jesus. We asked him how he does that. He said that he goes to the local piazza, rides bikes, and tells people about Jesus. The very thing we did in Catania is what he is “doing in Africa.” Our children learn what we tell them. Passing information to our children is important. But do you want to know what our kids pick up on even more than our words? It is our actions. My kids will always remember that mom and dad gave everything away, moved to another country, and told people about Jesus. I’m not trying to toot my own horn here. I’m simply obeying the commission that Jesus gave to all of His followers. But my kids saw it in action. It is my responsibility now to make sure they still see that lived out, even in the corn fields of Indiana. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day God calls one of my kids to serve in a similar capacity. In fact, that is one of my prayers.

My family will always have the memories.

Granita on sabbath. Long walks along the Lungomare. Hiking up Mount Etna. Visiting Syracuse, a place Paul visited on his trip to Rome. Welcoming another child in Sicily. Eating delicious pizza. And so much more. We got to do some cool things in ministry, but we also “lived” there. My family got to do so many amazing things. We still talk about them on a regular basis. I mean, who has ever seen a volcano erupt in their backyard and then had to sweep ash daily for the next eight months? We have!

I learned a new language.

I may not be able to speak Italian fluently. I can already tell my language is slowly fading. But not many people get to say they can speak two languages, or even one and a quarter language. I can. I sat on a park bench one day and shared the good news of Jesus, in Italian, with a Muslim man from Togo. I ate pizza and conversed with my neighbors in their native tongue. I told a gas station clerk why I was living in Catania after he was shocked to learn that I was an American living in Catania, a city he thought wasn’t attractive to outsiders, especially Americans. I ordered food at restaurants. I sat in front of language teachers from two different language schools and learned all sorts of things I never would have otherwise. My Italian could fade away in its entirety. But I’ll never forget the challenge it was to learn a new language. And I’ll never forget the feeling you get when you realize you had a full conversation with someone in a language not your own. It is quite cool.

I made some cool friends.

We were not alone in Catania. We worked alongside four other families. We also became friends with several others in Catania. But I cannot express enough how much our team meant to me. And if any of them are reading this, I hope they know that it was an incredible honor to work alongside them. But it wasn’t just the “work” that was memorable. It was sharing life together. These people became friends. In many ways, they have become family. I’m not sure a day has gone by since our return that I have not thought of someone from our team. Yet, there were two of them specifically that I got to spend the most amount of time with. We met weekly for prayer and accountability. We shared the depth of our heart with each other. And my heart is filled with so much gratitude when I think about those moments together. At the same time, I am often filled with sadness when they come to my mind. I wonder how deep our friendship could have gone. And it hurts my heart knowing that friendship was “cut short” because of my return to the States. But I would rather look back on our season in Catania and be grateful that it happened rather than never knowing these men in the first place. And if either of you are reading this, you know who you are. I love you like a brother.

I served my Lord.

This. This right here. I in no way am belittling other ways of serving Jesus. We are all called to be obedient to what He asks of us personally. I went to Italy out of the conviction that Jesus invited me to go. That is enough. Jesus. The Son of God. The King of kings. The Lord of lords. He is my King. I am His servant. And it is an honor to serve Him anywhere. Yet, I had the amazing privilege, through the partnership of so many others, to serve Jesus in a very unique way by going to a country not my own, living in faith, and showing and sharing the reality of the Kingdom of God to those I came in contact with. Wow. Just reading that over myself is giving me chills. Nobody can take that away from me. It still amazes me to this day.

I may never know “the reason” for my time in Catania. But like my friend said, clarity is never a guarantee. Whether God ever reveals more to me or not, I can say with the utmost of confidence:

It was worth it.