Tag: life

The Big Purge…

Aarrrghhh… My LEAST favorite task when moving is going through the mountain of paperwork that “somehow” seems to accumulate. With only 31 days — YIKES!!! — until we hop on an airplane and leave this place that has been home for almost eleven years, I finally began tackling the dreaded project last week.

Yep. I confess. I’m both a procrastinator and a hoarder. Not a full-scale/all-out hoarder — just one who hangs on to receipts and travel itineraries and notes from phone calls and sentimental “stuff” and…. well, I think you get the picture!

My husband, on the other hand, is a minimalist. He’s the only person I know who has an EMPTY in-box on his computer. More than once, though, I’ve rescued him when he deleted an email he felt wasn’t important but had forwarded to me “just in case.”

Our first experience purging things was after we’d been married one year. We were moving from the Pacific Northwest to the East Coast of America in preparation for eventually moving overseas. We realized we couldn’t cart a lot of “stuff” around the world, and so agreed to get rid of things that both sets of parents had given us when we first got married — things that had taken up space in their homes up until our marriage, things like university textbooks, course notes, a drawing of “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” I’d done in third grade. I know. Pathetic, right?! One thing my husband PROMISED not to throw away was any correspondence between the two of us prior to getting married.

As we were throwing boxes of “stuff” into the landfill, three guesses what fluttered out of a box and into the air?!? A letter he had written me!!! Needless to say, I was not pleased… and he was in the doghouse for a while.

Now, all these years later, we have been doing the same thing: getting rid of “stuff” we no longer need. “Stuff” that literally would weigh us down — especially since we’re only taking four suitcases when we leave, and each can only weigh 23 kgs (50 lbs)!

Hmm… All this makes me think about other “stuff” in my life that may be weighing me down. “Stuff” that may hinder my ability to keep my focus on God. “Stuff” that robs my contentment and instead fuels anxious thoughts. “Stuff” that causes me to easily take offense and get irritable.

The writer of Hebrews in the New Testament of the Bible puts it this way:

… let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race that God has set before this. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith… chapter 12 verses 1-2

Besides all the papers I’m purging, I need to do some personal purging these days: stripping off any and everything that may be tripping me up. Dealing with wrong attitudes and perspectives. Not making mountains out of molehills. Dealing with any sin that the Holy Spirit convicts me of.

Oh, the joys of moving! Thankfully, a time of purging is good — not just for our physical well-being, but even more so for us spiritually. And the biggest benefit — it’s one way we can continue to have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”

Empty shoes…

They were the first thing I saw when we returned to my parents’ home from the hospital. Returned home from sitting vigil with my dad the final hours before his death. Returned home to an eerie emptiness that sucked the life out of me.

Daddy’s empty shoes.

I remember the surreal feeling in the hospital parking lot with my mom, brother, and sister. We had said our final goodbyes. Signed all the necessary papers. Zombie-like, we walked in silence to the car.

I remember feeling like the world as I had known it had ceased. There was a disconnect when seeing others laughing, smiling, continuing on with life as though nothing had happened. Nothing earth-shattering HAD happened in their worlds, but in mine… April 25th would never again be “just another day.” It would forever be the day my Daddy died.

That was over twenty years ago, and yet recently I’ve been grappling with similar emotions.

We’ve been counting down from 100 days until our departure from Thailand. Forty-two days until we leave this place that has been home for almost eleven years. Forty-two days before moving to our home country. Forty-two days until we are no longer “expats living abroad,” which has been part of our identity since 1979.

We’re in that surreal in-between time of disengaging from life here before re-engaging in another country, our “home” country. It’s strange to be with friends as they talk about plans for the upcoming Christmas season — realizing we won’t be here to go to the Christmas markets (always a great place to find unique, homemade gifts), watch the play a local theater group puts on each year, attend our church’s Christmas breakfast and service, take in a special holiday concert. It’s strange to realize we will no longer be a part of normal life here.

Yep. Life goes on.

Without us.

This is, of course, natural. OK. It happens! But just like my dad’s death, the finality associated with any kind of change means loss. And loss necessitates that it be acknowledged. And grieved.

I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately reading and meditating on Psalm 121. Six times in this short psalm the word “keeps/keeper” is used:

… He who keeps you will not slumber.

…. He who keeps Israel with neither slumber nor sleep.

… The Lord is your keeper…

… The Lord will keep you from all evil;

… He will keep your life.

… The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.

When something is repeated frequently it makes me wonder why. What’s the significance of the word “keeper/keeps”?

“Keep,” in this context, comes from the Hebrew “shamar.” It has the idea of guarding, watching over, attending to carefully.

What an encouragement to me at this stage of our journey to be reminded that my God is guarding me, watching over me, attending carefully to me. He never gets tired. He never sleeps. He’s ever attentive and wants to protect me. He knows my comings and goings — both here and elsewhere. He is with me in ALL of the uncertainties, the changes, the challenges I face.

As I’ve been doing the “100-day countdown,” I’ve been listing things I’m going to miss living here in the tropics and things I’m looking forward to as we move to our home country (see blog post below where I first shared this idea). What’s been happening lately is that several things in the “miss” column have had their flip-side in the “looking forward to” column. For example, missing routine is paired with looking forward to reestablishing routine; missing familiarity with looking forward to eventually having things be familiar again — with an emphasis on the word eventually!

In the midst of change and the disconnect we’re now experiencing, I’m grateful that my husband and I are focusing on and clinging to the One who is the keeper of our souls. Some days my husband does better than I… other days I’m reminding him… but together we’re choosing to have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!” A journey that has ups and downs, to be sure. But a journey in which God will continue to guard, watch over, and attend carefully to our steps.

It’s time to build a R.A.F.T.

It’s time to build a R.A.F.T.

It’s rainy season here in the tropics. We sometimes joke with friends that it’s time to build an ark — like Noah did centuries ago when the whole world flooded. Thankfully, we live on the fifth floor of our building. Thankfully, we also live a good distance from a river that does, unfortunately, overflow its banks somewhat regularly.

But my husband and I are needing to build a R.A.F.T.

A raft is usually a temporary structure. Not something built to last forever, but something to cling to in the midst of stormy seas. Often rudderless, it’s at the mercy of the elements. It gets one from Point A to Point B — not as swiftly as something more sea-worthy nor as quickly — but it still accomplishes its purpose and “lands” one on another shore.

The late David C. Pollack (see below) developed a tool to help people like us who are in the midst of transition. He came up with an acronym that we’ve used in past moves… and are needing to use once again.

R = Reconciliation

Reconciliation means to reconcile with people. To make relationships right. Sometimes we think that if we just put distance between ourselves and whatever person or problem we struggle with everything will somehow be better once we relocate. BUT… those unresolved issues move with us. Broken relationships don’t just magically disappear. Reconciliation includes needing to forgive others and to be forgiven. A LOT of factors play into this, but at least as far as it depends on me personally, I need to intentionally do what I can to make sure I leave with no relational “stuff” hanging over my head.

A = Affirmation

Affirmation is another way to say “show appreciation.” Acknowledging what others have said or done to encourage us, to help make our stay here meaningful is a win-win situation. Too frequently, words of appreciation aren’t verbalized until it’s too late for the intended person to recognize the role they played in making a difference in our lives — think of eulogies at funerals. But by being intentional in communicating our appreciation, our thanks we validate the other’s impact and let them know how much they meant to us. This can be done either verbally (in-person) or by writing a note — and the more specific the better!

F = Farewells

Farewells… goodbyes are never fun. In fact, I really dislike them (see below for a blog written two years ago). Saying goodbye includes two crucial parts. The first is saying goodbye to people, places, possessions. If at all possible, revisit places that hold special memories. Be sure to schedule time with friends. If you are needing to downsize and get rid of possessions, take pictures of your favorites, and then”gift” them to friends so that you can visualize them still being enjoyed.

The second key part is to allow others to “farewell” you. This often feels quite awkward — after all, not many people enjoy being the center of attention! And yet this is important as much for those who will be remaining behind as for those leaving. It helps to give both parties closure.

T = Think destination

One of the most difficult parts about leaving a place is that one is, of necessity, simultaneously thinking through a gazillion details regarding the move AND thinking about what happens next. It’s like having one foot firmly planted in your current location — where everything is known, familiar, comfortable — while the other foot is firmly planted… in mid-air!?! Where are we going to settle? How will it be different from where we currently live? How will it be the same? What kind of community/support system will we have there?

A good friend, who has gone through several major moves with her family, suggested that my husband and I do a “100-day countdown.” The idea is that each day — for 100 days before we leave — we write down

  • One thing we are going to miss about living here.
  • One thing we are looking forward to when we move to our next destination.

Good advice! Especially since it will help us focus on the positives.

Yes, we’re starting to build a R.A.F.T. We recognize that we’re in this strange in-between time of disengaging from here before re-engaging elsewhere. There undoubtedly will be stormy seas as we move from Point A to Point B , but our “raft,” although temporary, is vital to enable us to leave well… so that we can enter well… so that we can live well… and have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”

Goodbyes… never easy

One-way ticket…

photo credit: author

The first time I bought a one-way ticket was eleven years ago. My mother had been battling cancer and was now beginning home hospice care. I bought my ticket not knowing if it would be days, weeks, or months … only knowing I wanted to be there with my siblings to help care for her. A little over five weeks later we said our final goodbyes.

The second time was a few weeks ago when I booked tickets to our home country.

Both times, booking one-way tickets announced a finality that was — and is — hard to grasp. Both underscored that saying goodbye to people, to relationships forged over a lifetime or even those newly made is fraught with a myriad of conflicting emotions. Both accentuated the end of an era. Both were inevitable.

Booking those tickets a few weeks ago was yet another reminder that change is in the wind. That a LOT of unknowns await us. And yet at the same time, God keeps giving little glimpses into how He is going to guide and provide. Glimpses that greatly encourage my heart!

Yeah. I have my ups and downs. Good days and bad. Days when I feel overwhelmed, stuck. Days when I’m critical of everything and everyone — including myself. Days when I’m so tired I can’t think straight.

But also days when I’m refreshed by spending time with friends. Days when the beauty of this place and my morning serenade by tropical birds nurtures my soul. Days when God’s Word hits home in a way that helps me regain perspective.

Journaling has been a lifeline for me since my university days. It helps me think, process what I’m going through as I try to capture in words what’s happening in my soul. It helps me understand myself better, as well as helps point me to the things I know are true, things I need to cling to. It has become increasingly important during this in-between time of transition.

We will be moving to a new country.

Not “back home.”

To a place that has a familiar feel
– that is filled with memories of bygone days
– that is peopled by folks related by blood
and by life experiences.

And so we will go as learners
– observing thru the lens of first-time vistors
– recognizing that we will undoubtedly
make mistakes as we
navigate cultural changes
– needing to embrace the awkwardness
that comes when others
don’t know how to relate to us —
and vice versa
– finding our voice, our new identity —
while simultaneously striving
to remember what GOD says
about who we are is what is most important.

A learner is
– eager
– unafraid
– has no pre-conceived ideas —
or, more accurately,
is willing to lay them aside
– sees a gap in one’s knowledge
and is intentional in accurately filling that gap
– willing to admit mistakes,
especially where unchallenged/former
ideas or perceptions are concerned
– hopeful!
– childlike in faith
to embrace unknowns
– not trying to prove anything
– someone with a freshness that is contagious,
that inspires others
– not in competition with anyone
– one who infuses worth and
value and
respect in others.

A change in perspective.
A change in focus.
But a necessary one.
Thank you, Lord!

from my journal, June 23rd

I’m not sure where we were flying from (or maybe to??) when I took the above photo, but it symbolizes hope for me. Billowy clouds cover the land — and yet all that is hidden under their cover becomes clear, visible, alive once the plane begins its descent. A rising sun peeks above the horizon announcing the start of a new day.

We’re flying above the clouds now, metaphorically, as we prepare to move to our home country later this year. What’s under the clouds is known — even though we can’t see it right now. A new day is dawning for us, which signals an exciting new chapter.

A new chapter. New beginnings. A reminder that we can continue to have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!” no matter where we may land!

Lost in translation

photo credit: author’s phone screenshot

Telemarketers. Nobody’s favorites. But I must admit that the voicemail transcriptions of messages we get here in Thailand are definitely amusing! And, as the above attests, some things definitely get lost in translation!

As I was talking with my husband this morning, his bewildered look made me realize something in our communication had been lost in translation — even though we speak the same language!

More often than I would like to admit, I have a tendency to jump into a conversation sharing details or comments without first saying what I’m referring to. It’s clear in my mind what I’m talking about, but my poor husband — and others — aren’t able to track with me because I’ve forgotten to mention the introductory comments, so to speak. I may be looking at my laptop, commenting on something I’ve just read — without first saying what the article is about. Or looking intently at the GPS on my phone while my husband is driving — without clueing him in to what I’m seeing and why he needs to make a turn. NOW!

A couple of things I’ve been learning over the past years is that NO one is a mind reader. And NO one is able to accurately discern what is going on in someone else’s heart or mind.

That’s why two-way communication is crucial. Otherwise, things get lost in translation… or, said another way, one’s intended meaning often gets misconstrued as we translate what was said through the grid of our own experiences.

Learning that my husband can’t read my mind has been a game-changer for us. We’ve been married a LONG time, and he does a pretty good job of picking up on things, of “reading” me — and I him. And yet there is always the possibility that one of us has misread the situation. That we fill in the blanks from our own experiences. That we draw wrong conclusions from our limited input, not knowing all the facts. We mistranslate what we’re seeing or hearing. Something gets lost in translation. And someone ends up being misunderstood. Confused. Frustrated.

This also happens among friends. One person says something, and the other thinks they know what their friend is talking about and jumps in with their opinion or advice or whatever. Those conclusions may be totally incorrect, and within minutes a misunderstanding is brewing. Sometimes an argument ensues. One person often shuts down and doesn’t say anything else. And usually, both parties leave the conversation feeling they weren’t listened to or understood. Barriers are built, and if not resolved, grudges form. Grudges that, if left unchecked, can last for decades.

All because of a breakdown in communication.

A few years ago this happened to me. A good friend made a comment that caught me totally off guard. A comment that was made on a false assumption. I was stunned. Confused. It was like being stabbed in the back — except it was said to my face. Instead of withdrawing, which would’ve probably killed our friendship, I confronted her. I asked her if what she was saying was in line with what she knew of my character. I asked if she were open to hearing things from my perspective. And I also told her how much what she said hurt.

Thankfully, we talked things through and resolved the misunderstanding. And our friendship remained intact.

This made me wonder, though…

  • How often do I say or do something without first thinking through what I want to say?
  • Do I jump to conclusions before hearing all the facts?
  • Do I listen — really listen — when others are speaking? Or am I so eager to add my two cents that I only halfway hear what they are saying?
  • Am I willing to ask clarifying questions instead of barging ahead with my preconceived ideas and conclusions?
  • Do I take the initiative to clear up any misunderstandings before they morph into something that could potentially destroy a relationship?

Ugh. I’ve got to admit that I’m still learning a lot about two-way communication. Things still occasionally get lost in translation. But I’m increasingly aware of the danger of trying to read others’ minds. And I’m also realizing how, try as I might, I usually don’t have the whole picture to be able to accurately discern what is going on in someone else’s heart or mind.

The half-brother of Jesus wrote some wise words regarding communication:

Everyone should be
QUICK to listen,
SLOW to speak, and
SLOW to become angry…

Or… said another way…

Be a careful, thoughtful, listener,
a speaker of carefully chosen words,
patient, reflective, forgiving…

from the New Testament book of James, chapter 1 verse 19

Yep. I still have a LONG way to go in consistently putting this into practice! But hopefully, as we — you and I, dear reader — do this, we can have increasing joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”