15 August 2013

Ready or not...

To say that I have furlough on the brain is like saying that Billy Graham is mildly religious. But my brain doesn't know if it's coming or going. For instance:

I forgot how to spell "grocery." (It really seemed like it needed an 'h.')

I was concerned about buying drinking water for Peter in Ft. Lauderdale on a tight connection...and then I remembered about drinking fountains.

At staff meeting, we mentioned a friend who was starting a new job. "Yes," I say, "but it doesn't start until August." The date was August 9th.

I spend most of my free time alternating between making lists of things to pack or buy in the States and knitting hats and scarves.

Pete thought the mittens made for an excellent toy to push across our tile floors, but couldn't imagine why he'd want to put them on his hands in 80 degree weather.

Yes, my perpetual summer baby is in for a shock...but only if my stressed-out brain can get us that far. The emotions of leaving have caught me off-guard, as usual. I was standing in church, singing in Kreyol, and the thought of having no one to sing with in Kreyol in the States seemed tragic. I teared up. I need a break--I'm stretched to the limit, and I know that. I've seen God going above and beyond our needs regarding housing, both here and there, so I know he's in this.

But what are you supposed to do when leaving and staying both seem impossible? How do I keep my mind focused on today? How do I convince my heart not to break? 

If I figure it out, I'll let you know. Ready or not, we leave in three weeks...oy.

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