I'm a mess of contradictions lately.
August--our target departure month--seems so far in the future. Between now and then lies a semester of school for the kids, two birthdays to celebrate, springtime, swim lessons, and a pretty intensive training schedule.
But August is so....soon. How in the world are we going to sell our house and everything in it before then? Can we really have 80% of our monthly support pledged in time? The myriad of details that must be in place--insurance, taxes, legal matters, homeschool curriculum, medical appointments--can feel overwhelming.
Then there's the matter of good-byes. How do you say "good-bye" for three years? We want to believe that time and distance will not change anything. But we are not as young and naive as we once were. Some of the friends that seem so close will drift away; so much of relationship is built on shared experiences. And some who we barely know now will become dear friends. God, not being bound by distance, knits hearts together in often-unexpected ways.
On the other side of good-bye is hello. It is so much fun to meet new people... to share stories and jokes and food and tears and laughter. New friends become old friends, part of the fabric of our lives.
I've written most recently about selling our stuff. I'll probably still be writing about that in July. I'm pretty sure it breeds and multiplies overnight. I've emptied some drawers no less than three times already. I just want to get rid of it all. Now.
And yet I want to hang onto it. Everybody else has pictures on their walls, rugs on their floors, books on their shelves, knick-knacks on their piano, a centerpiece on their coffee table. We don't even HAVE a coffee table anymore, and we are seriously thinking about selling our sofas, too. Do we really have to start living differently here? Can't we wait until we are "forced" into it? Yes, we do...and no, we can't.
Sometimes, I get tired...overwhelmed....and I think about staying here. It seems so much easier. So much safer. So much more comfortable.....Watch Joshua discover the world of pre-schoolers. Enroll Drew in Kindergarten. Let Luke play Little League ball and soccer. Watch Kate transition from little girlhood to the tweens. Call Keith at work and chat over dinner plans.
But I would not be able to forget about the thousands of people who die every day. Without Christ. Without even having had the chance to hear the name of Jesus. If it were me....I would want someone to care enough to come. If it were my children.....I would risk everything to go.
Yes, I'm a mess of contradictions...but underneath them all lies a sure calling that cannot be easily abandoned.
August--our target departure month--seems so far in the future. Between now and then lies a semester of school for the kids, two birthdays to celebrate, springtime, swim lessons, and a pretty intensive training schedule.
But August is so....soon. How in the world are we going to sell our house and everything in it before then? Can we really have 80% of our monthly support pledged in time? The myriad of details that must be in place--insurance, taxes, legal matters, homeschool curriculum, medical appointments--can feel overwhelming.
Then there's the matter of good-byes. How do you say "good-bye" for three years? We want to believe that time and distance will not change anything. But we are not as young and naive as we once were. Some of the friends that seem so close will drift away; so much of relationship is built on shared experiences. And some who we barely know now will become dear friends. God, not being bound by distance, knits hearts together in often-unexpected ways.
On the other side of good-bye is hello. It is so much fun to meet new people... to share stories and jokes and food and tears and laughter. New friends become old friends, part of the fabric of our lives.
I've written most recently about selling our stuff. I'll probably still be writing about that in July. I'm pretty sure it breeds and multiplies overnight. I've emptied some drawers no less than three times already. I just want to get rid of it all. Now.
And yet I want to hang onto it. Everybody else has pictures on their walls, rugs on their floors, books on their shelves, knick-knacks on their piano, a centerpiece on their coffee table. We don't even HAVE a coffee table anymore, and we are seriously thinking about selling our sofas, too. Do we really have to start living differently here? Can't we wait until we are "forced" into it? Yes, we do...and no, we can't.
Sometimes, I get tired...overwhelmed....and I think about staying here. It seems so much easier. So much safer. So much more comfortable.....Watch Joshua discover the world of pre-schoolers. Enroll Drew in Kindergarten. Let Luke play Little League ball and soccer. Watch Kate transition from little girlhood to the tweens. Call Keith at work and chat over dinner plans.
But I would not be able to forget about the thousands of people who die every day. Without Christ. Without even having had the chance to hear the name of Jesus. If it were me....I would want someone to care enough to come. If it were my children.....I would risk everything to go.
Yes, I'm a mess of contradictions...but underneath them all lies a sure calling that cannot be easily abandoned.
I admire your readiness to make sacrifices, Carol! Giving up a "normal" life with many comforts to move to a poor country - but the aim to tell people about Jesus and give them - who probably have never heard of Him - the chance to get to know Him is it really worth to suffer privations.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading this , one thought keeps coming to me " IT WILL BE WORTH IT ALL."
ReplyDeleteOh, Carol. Your heart is beautiful. Not only are you answering the call to love God's lost ones, you're planting seeds in rich soil for your children to harvest. They will learn so much from watching you and Keith step forth in obedience and joy. I pray that Nich and I will be the sort of parents you are!
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