Unpacking!
This time, we are unpacking some boxes we'd last touched almost three years ago.
Dear Salvation Army, I'm coming your way soon. I'd love to say something noble like living in South Africa showed us how much we really don't need. It really did. Buuuuut, never having to re-pack and move this stuff again could also play a teensy weensy role in our desire to clear some things out.
Dear Children. I hope this helps you one day when Dad and I are gone and you don't have to wonder what to do with all this STUFF. There are some things I just can't imagine you having to find a place for one day...like 30 years worth of yearbooks??!! We will keep the love letters your dad and I exchanged and the footlocker of baseball cards (we can't afford to invest in gold so, when your dad was between about seven and 17, he planned waaaay ahead and invested in baseball cards) and other more sentimental memorabilia. But the ENTIRE BOX OF BRAND NEW SOCKS? Some of the knickknacks? They're gone. You will be grateful for this one day, I promise.
Dear Blog. You have been neglected. I'm so sorry. To begin to make up for this, I've copied and pasted the below entry from FB. This is what's known as a start. I have had lots of thoughts the last months but little energy to figure out how to put them together in a way that means anything.
So, here is my best effort of late. A blog title that isn't even fitting and a copied and pasted FB entry.
I went to a Bible study called "Just Moved," based on the book, "After the Boxes are Unpacked." Even after many moves as a military brat and the last three years of moves, this move has been one of the harder ones. I've heard re-entry could be a beast. And, well, confirmed. While I KNOW God has incredible worldwide work for us to do from Texas, there is a reality that leaving SA came with a lot of sorrow and confusion as to why God was moving us from such fruitful ministry and people we loved. I said many prayers, face to the ground in desperation, begging God to let us stay. So, yes, grief has been a real thing for me the last months.
Don't get me wrong, going where we can have the most impact for God's Kingdom, even when that means giving up some really precious parts of our lives, is what we want. I trust God wouldn't have led us back to Texas if good things weren't ahead. BUT, goodness. When the heart LOVES, the heart can GRIEVE.
In our small groups, we shared some emotions that come with uprooting...depression, loss of identity, grief, anxiety, bitterness, fear, comparisons, etc. To my left, one woman shared her greatest struggle is loss of identity. To my right, a woman shared her bitterness and grief as so much of making sure her kids transition well and the oversight of their home build falls on her while her husband is at work. Across from me, a woman in her late 50s shared what it felt like starting over with friendships at her age.
I felt a lot of things in that little room with 23 other women new to Austin and five leaders committed to walking this road with us. I felt hope and encouragement. I felt affirmed that my roller coaster of emotions is normal. I felt a little less lonely. I felt compassion watching the two ladies on either side of me break down in tears. I know they will be okay but I also know this is a process. I felt convicted that I need to be MUCH better at welcoming women who are new to my town/my church/my neighborhood, etc. At least I'm from Texas and have some roots here. So many of these women are from across the country and I can't imagine how different Texas can feel. People are moving to this great state in droves. Are we welcoming them well?
I needed this group of broken-hearted but hopeful women today. I'm so glad God knows my heart and gave me this. I'm so glad He gave all of us a need to connect and belong. We were made to walk this life together!
In a few hours, I get to see our ESL women again. They are experiencing a another level of adjustment. Please pray they see Christ's LOVE in the leaders and feel warmly welcomed. Pray that doors are opened for new hope in Christ.
