04 July, 2018

My God is my rock

Hi from the other side of the ocean. We've been in Sydney, Australia since Monday morning. That makes it about 60 hours. 

See the last few paragraphs of the post for the reference to this.
Actually we arrived quite exhausted. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were very hot and humid, as well as physically and emotionally exhausting. On Friday and Saturday we finished up packing and cleaning our house, on Saturday I picked up our youngest son from camp about 1½ hrs west of our house by car and we travelled—with some of our luggage—to our mission's guest home (about 1½ hrs on trains).  

On Sunday we dealt with some final details, some of which were confusing and difficult to figure out, including a miscalculation on our luggage amount. During all this time we were also dealing with ongoing discussion about where we were going to live in Brisbane/Ipswich from July 8, not to mention boys who weren't enjoying the upheaval. There wasn't much rest. I was fighting mentally to stay away from negative and repetitive thoughts about practical details and some relationships.

Late on Sunday afternoon we travelled another hour by train to the airport, eventually getting on the plane at about 9.30, but not taking off until midnight due to some fault they were working on before we could take off.

The good thing about getting to the plane completely spent was that I slept better than usual on an overnight flight. Nothing as good as a horizontal sleep, but not too bad. I saw a fun Australian movie—BBQ—and some episodes of an intriguing TV series—Speechless.

Monday we landed in Sydney, made our way through customs and immigration with few issues, and eventually were reunited with our eldest son. It was a little anti-climatic as a reunion because so many other things were going on at the same time, not to mention that we were exhausted and not everyone was coping so well (one boy didn't sleep at all on the plane). Thankfully we were able to get to our holiday accomodation quickly and crashed.

On the journey from the airport I received a phone call from our friend working on housing to say that one of our housing applications had been successful. Great relief ensued! Followed by confusion later about the proper procedure that had to be followed to make it a sure thing. We're still waiting on a lease to sign, but keep getting assurances from the agent that it's proceeding forward, with a goal of the key being picked up on Friday morning, so surely tomorrow we'll see the lease.

Tuesday (seems like a long time ago, but just yesterday) we caught trains—a challenge in itself in a strange city—to meet an old friend of David's for lunch and then spent the afternoon at a large shopping centre. David got a phone and we sat at a coffee shop for a few hours while he got it functioning and then we went to see a movie (knowing that this was one familiar thing that we could do as a family that everyone was happy about).

Wednesday (today!) we decided to keep it low-key. We slept in and the boys have pretty much stayed at home. David and I met another old friend of his (and support of ours) for coffee, and bought a few more essentials and something for dinner.

Tomorrow we get our "tourist" hats on and head to the Opera House and meet some more friends who are heading to the mission field soon.

These few words can't convey the emotions that have run strongly through this all. Landing in Australia after being away for years is never easy. I always feel a little raw. One of our boys walked around staring at the ground yesterday much of the day. He was feeling the uncomfortableness of being in a new environment. He was worried about being left behind when we walked too fast, but as a teenager, also didn't want us to hold his hand. Challenging. Parenting through these changes is hard.

On Saturday, when I went to pick up my son, I took half an hour to walk down to the nearby river. It is gorgeous, I've been there before, and I knew I needed a moment in the midst of the madness to appreciate God's creation. I loved seeing this big rock in the middle of the rapidly moving water. It reminded me of how King David referred to God as his rock several times in the Bible. Here's one:
Oh, I must find rest in God only, because my hope comes from him! Only God is my rock and my salvation— my stronghold!—I will not be shaken. My deliverance and glory depend on God. God is my strong rock. My refuge is in God. All you people: Trust in him at all times! Pour out your hearts before him! God is our refuge! Selah
Psalm 62:5-8
Such comfort in the midst of upheaval.

That's enough for now. Thank you for your prayers! 

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