Leaving on a Jet Plane...

We just finished up a delicious backyard BBQ with all the Pumpellys here in Richmond. Burgers, sweet corn, watermelon, pasta salad...yum! Yesterday we had our last Texas Roadhouse. The day before, our last Mexican. 

That's what happens as we near the end of our time here in the US. Every thing we do becomes our last, it seems. But you know what we're doing that isn't our last? Packing. 

I have now officially packed our blasted trunks 4 times. Every time they're exactly 49 pounds; it's just what makes up the 49 pounds that keeps changing. Most recently, we realized we needed to pack LESS of the gluten free items we had planned to take (they're heavy), and we needed to pack a better variety of each person's clothes in each trunk (in case one gets lost between here and Kenya). 

Tomorrow, the 28th, we wash the last load of laundry, pack the last minute items, and roll up the toiletry bag. It's leaving day! There were days I stressed our work permit wouldn't be approved in time to leave this month. Then suddenly it was approved, and now I had moments of feeling we're leaving too soon! But it's really been perfect--we had good closure with family, we've gotten our errands all taken care of, and we know deep in our souls that it's time to go. 

The kids are feeling all sorts of feelings, because goodbyes are hard. I'm feeling all sorts of feelings because it's a sober thing to move overseas. Even going back to Kenya where we've lived before, we will have different jobs in a different part of town. Things have moved on since we were there before, and we will need to figure out where we fit in again. I'm excited to do it, but also realistic that it's a hard thing. 

We are also aware that we're headed out into a world where we carry a message of hope and freedom from sin, and we have an adversary who wants people to stay enslaved. We are going out as ambassadors of peace, when the adversary wants to sow division and hatred. It's a sober thing to face. 

But ready or not, tomorrow is the day. And no matter how brutal the 32 hours of flight time, we've never not survived it. So we assume we'll land in Nairobi on Thursday morning, tired and looking worse for the wear, but we'll be walking into the land of mangos, sunshine, and roses. There will be a bunch of wonderful people we know waiting for us, and a bunch more we don't yet know but soon will. 

And despite all the feelings, we know that He will be with us, even to the end of the age. So we go in peace.