We spent most of this weekend packing and sorting, and our place now officially looks more like Command Central than it does Home. I wondered what it would be like when this happened. I’m sad, in all honesty, but since it never felt like a permanent home anyway, it doesn’t feel like we’re digging up really deep roots. I think what’s hardest is that this is Chickpea’s first home, the only one she’s known, and she really has no idea that we’re about to leave it and not come back. I keep waiting for her to flip out because the couch is no longer at a 35-degree angle, or because that thing on the wall is gone, but she really doesn’t seem to care. I know it’s my emotional projection onto her… To her, home is wherever Kabob and I are. It’s a good reminder for me.

I really long for a plot of ground where I can sink my roots. Some of that is because I’ve moved 19 times in 11 years, but I know the real reason is that we all are longing for our True Home… This “thing” in me will not die until I’m with my Heavenly Father. Indeed, there are better things ahead than any we leave behind.

It’s one month and four days until we turn in our keys and live out of our spacious Honda Accord for a couple months. The unknown is so close I can taste it – I mean, I have no idea what life will be like in 6 weeks – and the part of me that thrives on change is giddy with excitement. But the scheduler in me, the mama, is a bit anxious. And I know to whom I must give that anxiety.

Elisabeth Elliot said it perfectly this morning…

“Today is moving day. There will be plenty of reason for fretting and stewing, impatience, and turbulence. I am one who seems to feel that unless I do things or unless they are done my way, they will not be done right, and the day will disintegrate. But I have been watching the sea – very turbulent this morning because of a tropical storm hundreds of miles away – and I remember Him whose word was enough to calm it. Speak that word to me today, dear Lord: peace. Let your calm spirit, through the many potentially rough minutes of this day, in every task, say to my soul, Be still. Even this day’s chaos, with all its clutter and exertion, will be ordered by your quiet power if my heart is subject to your word of peace. Thank You, Lord.”

So today, I’ll keep plowing at the World’s Most Insane To-Do List (I mean, how on earth do you decide which books leave the country with you?), Chickpea will keep on happily playing with her dolls and looking for me when she wants a drink of water, and Kabob will drive to his job sites while listening to the minor prophets on CD. He’ll come home, we’ll have dinner, try to raise more support, discuss what’s next on the list, and hit hard the pillows. Tomorrow morning will come, and He’ll still be there, faithful to give all we need to do what He’s called us to. This is all for Him, and He will provide.