This Home is Temporary

This home is temporary. 

Everyday I think about leaving this place. It's eventual. It's inevitable. It's like a time bomb ticking away, to an unknown detonation point. It's a constant battle in my mind. About the little things that we invest in. Is it worth decorating your home when you'll just have to paint it back to white, sell all the trinkets and frames, and putty up all the nail holes? Is it better to keep it is as sparse as possible, because that's most economical?

But I can't stand sparseness. Sterility, fluorescence, bareness. Yuck!

I sit here, unable to sleep for the millionth time. I'm a little in a panic about not being able to sleep right now. I would give anything to rest. I know that Willow will be up in a few short hours, and I have a long day ahead of me with activities planned straight through the day from morning till night.

I look at all our possession here and there, and think about selling them someday. Every year, some friends move away, and new staff arrive to replace them. Every spring, it's a reminder that someday it will be us. It will be us selling our stuff, saying our goodbyes, packing up what we want to keep, discarding what no one wants....I don't know if it reveals some sort of compulsiveness in my thinking, but I literally think about this everyday. I'm positive that Adam does not think about leaving. He thinks about staying. But I have a running tab in my brain of my 'treasured objects'. What do I want to take back with me because it would be too sad to sell or throw away? The cross that I can hang pictures on, the Chinese style jewelry box, my recipe book, the growing pile of appreciative letters from students, our Starbucks city mugs, the handmade baby blankets, a few books...really, we don't have that many treasures.

This home is temporary. 

That means that everything we want to take back to America with us, someday, will have to fit in five suitcases. What an impossible concept to wrap your mind around! How to fit three people's lives into five suitcases?!

Not too long ago, people moved to foreign lands to serve and minister. They didn't plan on returning to their home country. Some packed their few belongings in a coffin, because that was the mindset they had. They would serve in another country until they died, and then they would be buried there.They didn't have google to research the place they were going to live, they didn't always have language tutors, or foreign import stores, or English movie theaters, or email/skype to keep connected with family and friends. Really, they were amazing. They humble me, because I'm positive I couldn't do what they did. My life is plain luxurious in comparison.

But they went because they were obedient. Because they knew that this world is temporary, and their 'home' really isn't a four-walled structure. They knew that where their true home was, they weren't allowed to check five pieces of luggage.

You won't need it. 

While I continue to struggle with my sleepless nights, and obsess about my possessions, I'm at least encouraged that it's just stuff and that I should always consider my homes to be temporary resting places.


~julie