Another unusual reunion

Here is the story of three couples and their kids. Back in the late 90s all six of us were childless couples, living in Brisbane, attending vastly different churches but applying to be long-term missionaries with OMF International. In January 99 we all attended an OMF Candidates Course in Brisbane (one of the children was a babe-in-arms at that course and I was pregnant). At that course we were all accepted to join OMF. From there we all went on the deputation trail. OMF required we have 100% of our support before we left. The Callows (Jeff and Belinda) and the Himstedts (Daron and Janet) were headed for Thailand and we for Japan, so the amount we needed was vastly different.

Over the next 15 months we did a number of mission related events together. The most extravagant was an imitation aeroplane trip to promote mission. It was huge! So was I...at 38 weeks pregnant!

In March of 2000 the Himstedts left for Thailand and in the middle of the year the Callows took off. That left us. I cried. We didn't know at that point if we'd ever get where we felt God had called us to. We eventually left in November of that year, but were undersupported for most of our term. Actually in retrospect we should have left it until after the northern winter, but that is another story altogether.

The wacky part of this story relates to both our ages and our kid's years-of-birth. For at this time of the year the adults' ages step up one year at a time. Couple by couple. So the Marshalls are the youngest, then the Callows, then the Himstedts. Our kids were all born in consecutive calendar years - every year from 1998 for nine years. Four of the nine were born overseas. And the families took it in turn too. Callows, Marshalls, Himstedts, Callows, Marshalls...you get the picture. We all have three children. The Callows and Marshalls have boys and the Himstedts have girls. Weird, hey?

So, all of us have now served for about 10 years overseas. We've all had our trials and challenges. We've walked in different places (we haven't been to Thailand and they haven't been to Japan, for example), but have so many things in common. The one thing we have not managed to do is live in Brisbane all at the same time. Both the Callows and Himstedts have only just last week come back from Thailand and we've about to leave again. This is the first time since 2000 that we've all been in the same city at the same time.

So much to talk about this morning, it was a pity when the time came to an end. We've all prayed for one another over this last decade and we're all Facebook friends, so we know an awful lot about each other's journey - both from what we read and what we've ourselves experienced. Now we have another memory to add to our collection, plus photos!

Today in the airlock

1. Our car situation has been sorted out and thankfully it was simply a spark plug and ignition lead problem, nothing larger.
2. We're getting back to some sort of normality. I'm feeling less over-stimulated. For several days I've felt like everything inside me was vibrating - like after a long car/bus/train/ plane trip.
3. This morning we had a long anticipated get together with missionary friends (contemporaries). This really deserves its own post (the explanation is a bit lengthy), maybe later today.
4. We've received notice that we get all our bond back!!! YAY for all those helpers last Tuesday!
5. Not much emotional disturbance - at least not out of the ordinary (boys fighting etc.).In fact I feel a little numb.
6. The world continues on around us - various enormous sporting events, news etc. all happening, but somehow it feels like we are separate from it all, like we're floating in space...maybe it is time to go and have some lunch!

This week is like an airlock

This week might seem rather unusual to people. "What are you doing - just hanging around?" Yes, I guess we are, but it is a somewhat peaceful time in between bouts of chaos. If you go back and have a look at this post about the stages of transition, I can tell you we are at the very end of stage 2, just before we crash into Japan and the chaos of stage 3. I likened it earlier today, when talking with a friend, to being in an airlock. We have done most of our farewells, have few responsibilities and fewer commitments to fulfil. It is a time of regathering ourselves, of resting before the next big outlay of energy. We've learned (during four previous international moves) it is important to build in pockets of time like this. Important for our sanity and ability to make it through to the end of the transition.

 It is also a time where we mop up bits of last-minute things that need doing. For example, finalising the boys' medicals for entry into CAJ in August. We'll also be seriously re-packing our suitcases and putting together a couple of extra boxes of stuff that won't fit into our 100kg and need to be posted. And, as I speak, waiting to hear the verdict on our borrowed van. We have a bad track record on borrowed vans. The last one, five years ago, needed towing away to the final resting place for cars in Japan! Hope this one is not as bad as that, it has served us well all year, right up until a week before we depart.

Perfect age?

Yesterday someone who is not acquainted with our history, said, in response to our farewell at church,

"Your kids are the perfect age to be going overseas."

I resisted the urge to tell her that we've previously left Australia with a 2 month old, an 18 month old, a nearly 3 year old and a 6 year old (on two different occasions, of course). Never mind that we've parented children of all ages from birth to 10 years of age while living in Japan. Now we're going with 5, 7 and 11 year olds.

But what is the "perfect age"? Probably taking teenagers is not too advisable - especially for the first time. I admit it was hard to take a baby over, but probably worse to take a spirited 2 year old! Taking both a baby and 2 year old at the same time five years ago was probably the worst scenario, though!

I do acknowledge that this time it has been (so far) a lot easier transition with older kids. They're able to understand what is happening and even help (instead of hinder) the move. But that is something I can enjoy now. In contrast to having children at a less convenient age being something that would hinder us in following God's call. I guess that is what irritates me inside when someone makes a comment like that - implying that we're doing it because it is convenient to us now. NO! It is never convenient to do what we're doing. Children are never the perfect age and we are never perfectly prepared. We're just willing and able (i.e. medically fit) and being willing makes it the perfect time to go, not any outside circumstances.

Shocking Sunday

I am almost too tired to write. To be honest, if I didn't have children who needed me to sit up and force them into sleep, I'd be showering and headed for bed myself! Nevertheless, since I'm awake and doing practically nothing, so I might as well write a short note about our rather shocking Sunday.

It was a day along the lines of those stressful things I spoke about in this post about fridges. An unexpected event that occurs in the midst of transition tends to be almost too much.

Starting in Toowoomba, we ate early and left while the ground was still white with frost (unlike the photo). Just as we exited the town down the range (Great Dividing Range) we began to hear suspicious noises from the engine. These didn't go away, but rather gradually increased, especially when we accelerated or drove up hills. Because we were on a time schedule (getting to our farewell service at a church in Brisbane) we powered on, but feeling less and less happy about the car.

The service was enjoyable and it is always special to be called out the front and prayed for. Meaningfully, there was a de ja vu  moment when the congregation sang the same song that was sung as a solo at our first "going out" service by the same pianist: "The Potter's Hand". Here is the chorus:

Take me, Mould me
Use me, Fill me
I give my life to the Potter's hands
Hold me, Guide me
Lead me, Walk beside me
I give my life to the Potter's hand

 That was the (only) point I needed a tissue.

Afterwards we were invited to a friend's house for lunch and our car limped its way there - barely making its way up the hills. We called road-side assistance who said, "Best to get it towed to a mechanic tomorrow morning to check it out."

Amazingly this happened on the very day that we were able to pick up prior-offered car to use till the van is (hopefully) fixed.

After lunch we shifted our shrinking load of belongings into the place we're house-sitting for the week. Sat down for 20 minutes, then made beds and headed back for 5pm worship at the same church. Another farewell meeting, similar to the morning. More talking, more food. I don't feel under-fed, but I do feel over stimulated.

Hopefully the rest of the week will be less eventful. Tomorrow we've nothing planned, except David has to go with the car to the mechanic. The people we are house-sitting for are leaving very early on a camping trip, so after breakfast I guess we make ourselves at home and catch up on washing and sanity.

More farewells and a surprising coincidence

Today we had a Toowoomba farewell. I was born and grew up here. The supporters we have here are mostly my parents' generation and above, so it was a totally different age group to last Saturday's farewell. The other big difference was the temperature - it was cold (something like 12 degrees, minus some for wind-chill factor). We huddled indoors and drank hot drinks. It was a pleasant morning, but I wonder how many will still be in their earthly home when we return in 2-4 years time.

My big encouragement of the morning was an elderly lady who got herself all excited about us going back, about the opportunities that awaited, that we were "following God's call on our lives". She was so excited that I'm sure she would have hopped on the plane with us!

The saddest time was saying goodbye to my sisters and their children. Our 5 y.o. is particularly close to one of his cousins and our boys cried as we said goodbye. We told his cousin that he would have to write a letter and he cynically said, "Pwff, a letter wouldn't go that far." Providing some light relief!
My youngest sister also cried. It is tough for them as well as us.

Tomorrow morning we leave early to head back to Brisbane for a double-header (morning and evening services) of farewells at the church we attended before leaving for Japan back in 2000. We'll also move into the house we're house sitting at until we leave on the 12th. I don't anticipate it being a very fun day, though there is an interesting twist to the day. We have two brothers of the pastor visiting - they are also pastors. They'll be preaching at the services. It just so happens that one of the guys lives in the same town in South Africa (no less!!) as one of my writing critique partners. And the husband of my writing friend is a retired pastor who often fills in for this guy when he is on holidays! How's that for amazing connections?

So we continue to ride a roller-coaster of emotions. Lord willing it will be over soon.

Two vastly different tasks

Yesterday and today have centred around two main tasks.

The first being tidying up our belongings:

• sorting out the boxes to be stored here at my parent's house and putting them up in the ceiling or in cupboards
• sorting out how much excess baggage we've got and getting that into boxes for posting
• doing a trial pack to check weight

The second is less easy to be objective about. Spending time with my family. My two sisters and their children have been around. A family meal last night with mum and dad. All dancing around the reality that for the next two to four years our Christmases, birthdays, mother's and father's days etc. will be celebrated in different countries instead of together. After spending eight of the last ten years away we now know that there is no way to make up for lost time. No way that the time away can ever be redeemed. At times like these it is only a firm sense of "this is what God wants us to do" that keeps us firm in our resolve to go ahead. It is easy to get wobbly.

Perhaps the weather has gone out in sympathy - dreary clouds that occasionally dribble along with considerable chill.