A family in transition

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.