I fastened my eyes on a cluster of people staring right back at me. I recognized my grandparents positioned in the center. Smiles lit their faces like candles on a cake. My family members moved with me as one force toward a group that held signs and began waving. Recognition dispelled intimidation, and like mosquitoes to bare skin, we met a barrage of hugs. Everybody circled around us right there at the gate. The encounter was immediate, up close and personal.

In that moment, as an almost nine-year-old girl, I was transformed. Like the Psalmist, I beheld wondrous things God had graciously put in place for my family. The majority of the group were not relatives, but home church families and supporters. Rather than entering as a foreigner, I was received as native. I don’t know what my parents’ expectations had been prior to our arrival at the airport, but I know I had none. I’d altogether forgotten what it felt and looked like to be in the United States, having spent the past four years on the field. All environmental familiarity and friends were around 20 hours behind me.

That day of reception made all the difference. I visibly took in the sight while my heart allowed room. Having a group of people show up and gather in community meant something special. It was enough to completely envelope me into life back in the States for the entirety of our furlough.

Showing up for people has stuck with me ever since. My participation has the power to transform another life, opening their eyes to see they are not alone, they are loved, and they matter. It takes intentionality. It takes interest and perhaps stepping into another’s shoes. Sometimes we do it simply out of duty. I don’t know the personal motives of each person in my family’s welcoming party that day back in West Texas, but their collective effort deeply impacted a small member of a global worker’s family. We can all be a force for positive transformation during some of the most vulnerable, transient moments of someone’s life, regardless of age.