Painful, invaluable lessons

I woke up this morning to an email from Josh about the residency instructor position he'd applied for at Travis AFB in California.  While California wasn't really on his radar, he's confident that a residency position would give him the practice he needs to prepare us for medical missions, if that's where the Lord is leading.  That is our heart.  Medical access  to people in the far reaches of the earth - uncomfortable places - it seems a bit terrifying, but honestly is the only thing I can see us doing.  Neither of us have a desire to settle in America.
Well, I have to be honest - I do.  If I let my human desires cloud my mind, settling here and staying "safe" sounds attractive.  But the Lord has been working on my heart ever so gently and intensely over the past couple of years.  Perhaps he'll surprise us and plant us in the States somewhere, but at this point that would be a huge surprise to both of us (he's been known to surprise...)
At church each Sunday, the one that my father-in-law pastors, they have videos of different missionaries supported by the church.  I watch these children, these women, these desperate men and the discomfort of the tinnitus I'm listening through and the progressive hearing loss seem to pale in comparison to needs these precious people need met.  What is deafness in one ear and the spins every couple of days compared to starvation, lack of clean water and medicine and a desperate need to hear the Gospel?
  Sometimes I'm baffled as to why the boys and I and every other family were brought out of Turkey.  I so desperately wanted to be a part of the ministry there to the deployees and the folks facing 15 months away from their loved ones.  But the longer I'm here, the more help I'm able to get with this "disease" diagnosis I've been given and the more the Lord teaches me that none of this is about me the more I realize I needed to be taken out of that comfort zone. The lessons learned here could simply not have been learned there.  Learning how to cope with this disease while trusting the Lord to provide for my boys while I'm laid out didn't happen until we got here and I had no other choice.  This disease isn't about me - these lessons are invaluable and very difficult to express in typing.   
  I pray for the other families - He is not only sovereign over my situation, but each and every one of them.  He's not dropped the ball on one single life story.  May they know the joy of his salvation and his promises - an rejoice in their suffering.

The email this morning affirmed that one door had been closed.  We trust, we continue to follow in obedience and the hope that our family will one day be reunited.  The gal that sent the email made it sound like Josh had been chosen, but the assignments office (who handles where he goes next and when) put the nix to it.  My immediate reaction was frustration with them, but I'm so grateful that the Lord quickly gripped my heart and reminded me that not one decision is made without his permission.  
We will continue to push on doors that present and hope that one will open and have us together again sooner than December.  But if none do, if all doors shut He is still in control.  He is still sovereign.  He still knows what is best.  He still works for our good.  We pray that he will hasten our reunion, but he may not.  And we will hold fast to him through it.