Post It Note Post

 ....lots of random thoughts....

The packing is over.

I don't want to sound ultra dramatic, but wow...I felt like selling, giving away, and packing up our stuff was a little bit like engaging in actual combat.  Or maybe more like getting in a fight with Jillian Michaels.

I've never thought I was very materialistic.  Funny.  I was shocked at how much I struggled, okay not struggled....downright lost it several times as I put our belongings in boxes.  It was a strange feeling to pack up the house, put things away and surrender the need to "know" when I'd unpack our things again.  Would it be in a year?  Would it be in so many years, that unpacking it would make me laugh, wondering why on earth I kept all the junk I thought was so important.

Only God knows the answer to that question.

How do you decide what to take to Haiti for crying out loud?  The answer...I don't really know what to take.  I prayed.  I guessed.  I asked a lot of Haiti veterans.  I didn't like how "not prepared" I felt as I planned for what to take and what to leave behind.

So far God has had to strip away my love of stuff, my gigantic need for control and my monstrous desire to know how to prepare.

I liken this experience to a major wax job.

We decided to go to Haiti (more on how that happened later).  Put our house on the market.  Had a contract in four days.  Moved one month later.  Intense.  A short time to experience a lifetime of thoughts, fears, fits, and sanctification.  A wax job.  One minute you're sitting there with warm wax on your eyebrows, nice and relaxed. A lady is rubbing a soft cloth on your forehead.  She smells nice.  The next moment you're screaming "Mother!" as she yanks the warm wax and unnecessary eyebrows away.  It stings and leaves you unable to go in public without people looking at you and saying, "Are you okay?"  That's exactly how life has felt this past month.  And yet, once the redness wears off I'm left with something beautiful.  A wise person once said that life is always more attractive after God removes the extra eyebrows.  By the way, a wise person did not say that.

The truth is the last few weeks have been brutal ones for me.  Hard.  Difficult.  And yet, I felt Jesus there with me, doing that amazing thing He does...bringing comfort and peace to raging seas.  Reminding me that exfoliation is always good.  Always.

Our "stuff", the "things" I thought were "us" and "our life" are all sitting in other people's homes or in a container here in Brenham.

And yet here we still are...all six of us..."us"..."our life" still as lively and marvelous as ever.

I guess it's true...stuff is nothing more than stuff.  Stuff tells lies.  It tricks you.

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When you move you measure things in "lasts."

This is the last time I'll climb these stairs.

The last time I'll sleep in this bedroom.

The last bath I'll take in this tub.

The last load of dishes.

The last time I'll poo on this potty.

Lasts.

After I had cleaned the house...everything was out...all that needed to be done was done, I was alone in our home.

It was time to say good-bye to the place where I had imagined I would bake cookies for my grand kids.

I went outside, the cleaning supplies all loaded in the car.

I wanted to say farewell from the porch.  One of my favorite places in my home.

I sat there looking at my neighbor's yards...lovely in Spring....all so lovely.  The wide streets.  The houses that sit way back off the road like well behaved children who know they could get run over, or worse, get a spanking if they come too close.

I wanted to want to cry.  To end this chapter with tears and a white porch swing.  That's the ending I had imagined.

No tears came.  They weren't even close to making a debut.

I wasn't sad.

For the first time I was eager.  I felt free.  I felt like this part of our life is over, and it's been beautiful...maybe even perfect.  Yet I felt ready to get to the next section of this story.  To get up, go tee-tee, grab a drink of ice water, and then get on with it...see where this journey takes us.

I drove away from our yellow house with dry eyes and excitement in my soul.

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We're in Brenham staying with my precious aunt and my brother's family here at Yonder Way Farm.  Brenham is only about 40 minutes from College Station, so we'll be coming back to town regularly to see our sweet friends.  Aaron will commute and work for the school all summer as well as lead worship at New Life.

Aaron will report to work in Haiti (more on that later) by August 5.  The boys and I will join him shortly after.

We're about to overload you with tons of information about what we will be doing in Haiti.  Can't wait to share that with all of you.

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Since we got to the farm, Aaron has killed a mouse with a blow dart, a dog bit Ashton in the face, most the boys have stubbed toes as well as skinned knees, and Hayden got a nasty chemical burn on his foot.  He kicked a bomb his dad made.  I probably just got flagged by the FBI or by CPS, or by both.  Welcome all FBI agents.  Kick your shoes off.  Stay awhile.

Yes...Aaron likes to blow things up and is smart enough to know how to do that.  And yes...Hayden is weird and runs towards bombs instead of away from them.  And then he kicks things that are about to blow up. I know.  I told you.  Weird.  Aaron feels terrible.  Hayden has always been our child who is difficult to predict.  He's a free spirit.  You never know what he's about to do.  Trying to predict his next move is like watching an episode of LOST. That show, and being with Hayden for any length of time makes the phrase, "What just happened?" come out of your mouth.  Speaking of LOST...I think because it's over, Aaron needed something exciting to replace it.  Thus the bombs.  I'm brainstorming other ideas that bring an element of "thrill" that do not include explosives or maiming the children.

The plan is to go to Haiti in August if everyone stays alive between now and then.

The farm...it's a magical place!  We are in heaven here...dog bites, blow darts, chemical burns and all.