Every transition means stress, even good
transitions. We are in the midst of one
of those transitions. Yesterday, after having spent two days in Chepo searching
for a house, finally finding a house, and taking the leap of signing a six
month contract, Alex and I arrived home exhausted. Of course, the long bus rides didn't
help. But I think the emotional toll was
about equal to the physical.
As we stopped for lunch on our way back,
Alex and I talked about how much our life will soon be changing. We will miss
the community life we have enjoyed in YWAM, though it wasn't always easy. We
will miss the lovely house we have lived in these last 6 years, our little back
yard with my garden and a swing set for the kids, donated by a friend last year. Even little things like knowing the best
supermarket in the area, and where to catch the bus.
Then we will face getting used to the new
neighborhood, new stores, new everything.
And adjusting to a new rhythm of life.
Where we have been used to the structure of life on a YWAM base, we now
will largely make our own schedules, and they will be filled with other things.
Things like praying with someone in need, encouraging a brother, teaching,
visiting, building relationships, and lots of prayer. We will be in the community 24/7, not having
the safety of the base to return to after a long outreach.
And yet we will have a home, a place to
call our own (at least for the next 6 months!)
We will have new relationships, and new people to invest in.
All these changes seem bigger as I think of
our two little girls who are on this adventure with us. They will undoubtedly
miss their little friends, the playground on the base, and the only home they
have every lived in. Fearing their
reaction only adds to my anxiety about the move.
I sat down one night at supper with
Princess, and explained all about moving, what would happen, where we were going
and why. She accepted the news as if I
had told her we were going shopping tomorrow.
That evening she promptly went to pack her back pack full of toys, and
asked me if we were going to the new house now.
I tried to explain how long it would be until we moved, but time is a
hard concept to grasp when you are only 3.
The next day she asked me if we were going to our new house
"now?".
While we were in Chepo for a couple of
days, she looked around the house where we were spending the night, and
declared cheerfully, "I think I want to live here." The next day, when the subject came up again,
she asked if we were going to take "all her clothes?" And my clothes? And her toys?
And her books?
After I assured her we would take all that,
she thought for a moment, and then stated emphatically, "I think my Peter
Pan back pack is too small". After
I stopped chuckling, I told her that we were going to have other boxes, and
everything would fit. (I just love the ways kids' minds work.) She is definitely a planner, like me.
Rose is blissfully unaware of all
this. At two, she takes one day at a
time. Or perhaps it's more accurate to
say one minute at a time. She lives in
the moment, and I don't think there's room in her mind yet for worries of
tomorrow. She knows that she enjoyed
watching cartoons at the house we stayed at in Chepo, that she enjoys playing
in the boxes, that she is tired of riding on this bus. Beyond that, she just accepts life as it
comes.
Yesterday as the owner showed us the house,
she and Abigail were entertained; they found a dirt embankment to slide
down. I smiled watching them, reminded
that kids will largely be happy anywhere.
Alex and I will be with them. In our home, in our family, they can find
peace and protection. Our new house may
not be luxurious, but as long as they have a place to sleep, food to eat, a
place to play, and our love, they will be fine.
And thrive.
So here we are as a family. Teetering on
the edge of the unknown. Excited.
Scared. Thankful. Hopeful. Full
of questions but knowing Him who has the answers.
In transition.
