Leaving well

I loathe the packing process. I don't know if it's because the last ten years of my life have been spent packing and unpacking with brief spurts of stability in between, or if it's simply because packing forces me to be organized and think ahead (bleh). The whole process becomes a giant puzzle that doesn't feel satisfyingly solved until the locks are placed on each checked bag and my in-flight toiletries are tucked away in my carry-on (you're welcome, person sitting next to me that doesn't have to smell my unbrushed teeth).

The beginning…

We are dead in the middle of packing for our life in PNG and I'm finding that this time around is both less stressful and more stressful than previous pack-ups for PNG. Part of it is knowing, from experience, that all the supplies I take over will run out and once they run out, I'll survive. It might be a total pain and I might spend some time pining for that quality toothpaste, but I'll survive. On the other hand, this time we're packing to fill our home. That means pots, pans, sheets, towels... the whole kit and caboodle. In order to mitigate all the stuff we're taking back, I sent some pots and pans and sheets ahead with Brian when he returned for a brief time in October. As a side note, they do have many items available in Madang stores, but we found it would be less expensive to bring over supplies we had in storage rather than buy all new-to-us stuff there.

I get stressed looking at the chaos that is our packing station, but in reality none of it (aside from our medication) is necessary. It's all just "wanted" and being carried over to help us carve out a niche for our family. I've thought long and hard about how to give Ray the home I so desperately want her to have. There are the painted letters to hang in her room spelling out her name. And the paintings her two aunts lovingly created for her walls. And the little seat that will keep her safely strapped in during meals for many more months. And the general touch that will tell her she's in her home. But none of that is essential to her growth and development. What matters more than the stuff is how I treat her and her father during the packing-of-nonessentials process. It matters how I handle my frustrations during this time of upheaval for all three of us. It matters that I consistently put her and her father's needs at the top of my priority list in place of the overwhelming mound of to-dos. 

Ray has creative and thoughtful aunts! These will hang in her room in PNG.

Unfortunately, I don't do that well. If I tried to look really deep in my heart, I might find that all the preparation and thought I've put into getting stuff over to PNG isn't so much about creating a home for our family as it is creating a home for me. And then I can conveniently point to our cozy home and say to both, "See all I've done for you two! No complaining about needs not getting met. I'm working hard for you!"

It will be a struggle for the next few weeks as we plan, pack, and say goodbye. The unknowns of when (and how) our monthly support will come in, how (and when) my thyroid will balance out, and what the exact date of our return will be creates a firestorm of emotional angst for me. However, we already see God reminding us that His timing and His ways are always perfect. We have no idea why our plan to go back on January 11 wasn't His plan, but we already see the benefits of leaving later and we're learning to trust Him. Trust Him even if we couldn't see any of those benefits; it is His plan.

The toughest part of the missionary life for me is this time of transition and all the unknowns that come with it. Every time I look at our packing pile I'm going to try my level best to embrace this whole process as the wonderful opportunity for growth that it can be... if I let it.