We have been ticketed! – in the best way possible.

One more weekend in the States for a good long time.

So crazy exciting.

And wonderful.

And beyond us.

We’re thankful for one more weekend of living out of carry-on suitcases (we will. not. crack into. those. checked bags! that are. already weighed!!!)

There is much rejoicing as the countdown to setting foot on African soil begins!!!!

• Go, God, go!!!!!
• Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed!!!!

I couldn’t sleep.

Somewhere, sometime that night the baby began to have nightmares.

She’d cry out in the silence.

She was so restless.

Thrashing.

We’d pet her hair.

We’d call out a gentle word of assurance.

Sometimes she’d quiet down.

Time would pass and then another incident.

So I just scooped her up.

She called for her baby and her sippy cup.

Security.

The friends came too.

She snuggled down into her spot.

Right there in the middle of us.

Her little head pressing into my shoulder.

Her body calm.

Throughout the night it continued.

Every time I’d roll over.

Her little head.

Pressing in closer.

 

We’re packing again.

Her world is confusing right now.

Uncertain.

But she just kept pressing into me.

Grounding herself in my security.

 

During the restless nights of change.

When it hurts and I miss my people.

When I can’t possibly comprehend the task laid before us.

When I find my world flipping again.

Right there in the middle.

God, help me to press into Jesus.

Grounding myself in His security.

For there I find my place.

There I find my calm.

Pressing in closer.

Please, Jesus.

Help me press in closer.

After a week of staying at Matt’s parent’s house, we concluded our stay with a wonderful Thanksgiving meal. I love how thoughtful they all were to want to spend Thanksgiving together now (even though it’s October), in light of our future move across the world. Matt’s older sister and family are also moving to Peru next month, so the time was really a blessing for all.

It felt surreal saying goodbye on Saturday evening. These are my people. Ellen and I have done pregnancies together. We’ve all watched Sarah and James grow up. Barb and Rodger attend our sending church. We see them multiple times a week. Is it really possible that we’re saying goodbye?

Without visas and tickets to leave the country when we said goodbye it felt so surreal. Like we were going through the motions. This is what it would feel like if we were really leaving. Good rehearsal, everyone. See you at church on Sunday, family!

But when the night was done we gave hugs and really said goodbye.

…And it hurt.

 

We went down to my parent’s for a few days. We were all grateful for a gentle pace. But still in the air hung the goodbyes. How can something feel so “every day” normal and so “permanently the end” final at the same time?

We got our Visas in the mail on Monday afternoon. Ha! That wasn’t a stressful Monday at all! 😉 Nothing like knowing ticketing wants to book your flights by the end of the day, the field wants to receive you ASAP and you’re just waiting on the mailman to do his job. Bated breath. Our stomachs churning. Thank you for those of you who walked that stressful day with us. Oh good grief, what a long day. Thanks mom and dad for ignoring our distracted responses and glazed over eyes at random times during the day. We were constantly in prayer, begging the father for His favor in all the chaos.

It’s so crazy to no know when you’re going to leave the country for a very long time and be ready to go at the drop of a hat. Like literally we didn’t know if it’d be 24 hours later or 36 hours later or 5 days later, but we stood ready. Just waiting.

And amidst the waiting we found ourselves sipping hot chocolate around a bonfire in my parent’s back yard. Our history swirled out through pictures and stories shared from two grandparents to their four grandchildren. A story of blessing, filled with time together given to us from the Father. And while our paths were about to branch off a bit as we jump over the Big Pond, a legacy was offered. A chance to be reminded of their stories beginning on American soil. Together. Before the apart.

 

 

 

 

Goodbyes.

They’re hard.

So much emotion.

So much delight in the Sender.

So much hurt in the leaving.

So much hope in the new layers, the new developments,

the new growth

built upon so many beautiful stories of life together.

 

All this before our departing.

We have just completed another week of being nomadic again. Sometimes it sounds adventurous and sometimes it just sounds like being homeless. 

We’re not quite sure when it will end. It’s all dependent on visas and ticket itineraries. But it has been a season of being nomadic none the less. 

In some ways it’s fun. Ever wondered what it’s like in the daily grind right in the middle of someone’s world? Transparency creates no cliff hangers. 

And in some ways I miss just having a space of our own. Where we seem to belong. Where we can unwind without expectations. Or maybe that’s an expectation in itself. 😉

A chest of drawers could be so nice. A chest of drawers that we don’t have to unpack in a week. Or at least just somewhere to put our things that might actually stay in the same place for months. Just maybe.

Dear ones, I’m really in no way complaining. Our precious friends and family that have opened their wonderful homes to us are ever so generous! Ever so amazingly generous!!! We are so thankful. So blessed. 

So while we look forward to a place where we can put away the suitcases for a good while, we have felt “home” through the arms of our loved ones. 

Thank you for taking in this brood of nomads as the season’s winds rustle up change. 

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed in the midst of it all.

A night of goodbyes.

The children running around the gym.

Squeals.

Shared hearts.

Orientation seen in pictures.

Our new lives on the horizon.

As the old stands before us.

Limbo.

Beautiful goodbyes.

Wonderful hugs.

Our world all blended.

Then coffee with a favorite.

Or more like “coffee”.

Mmmm, warm sugar.

A goodbye without the bye.

She’s always near, no matter the distance.

“Home” to bed.

Home’s definition hanging on delightful faces.

Everyone sleeps in.

Heavy hearts healing.

Deep breaths.

Peace.

A morning of rain.

Gentle pattering on the nearby tin roof.

A slow morning.

Bacon sizzles.

It’s like the whole world is sighing.

Gratitude for a time well spent.

A quiet after goodbyes.

Before the next ones begin.

I’m really thankful that they’re beginning to see better. The dust is settling.

We were visiting one of our sponsor churches this past Sunday now that we’re back in Ohio for a couple weeks before departure. 

There’s such a flood of emotions all balled up in that statement above. Here for a couple of weeks. Before our departure. So much excitement. And beautiful chaos. And heartache. And utter joy. It’s all so surreal.

As we sat in the pew our oldest recognized someone in the video played: Our association’s missionary. “Hey, we’ve seen him before!” And as we were in the line to leave, our four year old looked up and said “Mommy, I know that guy,” when spotting the pastor. 

I love that they’re beginning to see better. They’re beginning to see how God has orchestrated these dear brothers to hold the rope for us. 

William Carey likened gospel missions work to descending into a deep mine. “I will go down,” he said to a church crowd, “but remember that you must hold the rope.”

We are merely the sent out ones. 

Thank you, dear brothers and sisters for holding the rope. 

It is not going unnoticed.

Even by the smallest among us.

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed.