The Sacred Ache of Calling

In Acts 20:36-38, Paul’s departure left everyone weeping sore, falling on his neck and kissing him, sorrowing most that they should see his face no more. The ache was real. The love was costly. The calling was sacred.

To families who go: Your tears at the airport don’t diminish your faith—they reveal the depth of your love. The wound of goodbye doesn’t heal because it’s not meant to. It remains tender, reminding you that what you’ve left behind has eternal worth.

To families who stay: Your empty chairs and quiet phone calls are altars of sacrifice too. You release what you treasure most, trusting God with hearts that walk continents away. Your “letting go” is its own form of ministry.

The gospel spreads through broken hearts that choose obedience anyway. In missions, love doesn’t make departure easier—it makes it sacred.

“And they all wept sore, and fell on Paul’s neck, and kissed him, Sorrowing most of all for the words which he spake, that they should see his face no more.” — Acts 20:37-38

The wound remains because the love remains. And that’s exactly as it should be.