All of that feels momentous, strange. Each moment, action, thought, decision seems vital - not to be screwed up. Our whole experience abroad, everything that has happened to us, changed us, points to this looming transition. How can we plug everything we are, think, and feel into a new chapter of life? Into the rest of our lives?
In a nutshell, that is the failing, the arrogance, and the lack of perspective that clouds our final days here. Not always, of course, but it is the temptation, the trap that catches us (me, at least) whenever we aren't paying attention. It's one thing to know that we aren't the center of the world, that life doesn't hinge on what jobs we do or don't find, and that each small decision doesn't necessarily or irrevocably determine our whole futures. It's quite another to live unflappably in that knowledge. Let's call it: exponential dominoes. One choice trips a chain of events which trips a multitude of cascading, ever-accelerating series of reactions. Flick the wrong tile and your life is completely wrong. Different than the way you would have intended it if you ever had any clear intentions.
Anyway...
Two days ago we did a spontaneous day trip to Castle Hill. Our last hurrah. Who knows the next time we'll be this close to mountains? It felt like such a fitting capstone: an unexpected adventure to end our life abroad - two years of unexpected adventures.
Fresh air, stretching the legs, and alone time together before our reintegration to life in Minnesota. Beautiful weather, surroundings, and excursion.
Yesterday we said goodbye to our local church community in the morning and to our friends and colleagues from the backpackers last night. Good, sad, odd, appropriate.
I read 'Life is a journey forward. There is no going back. Time only moves in one direction.' But here we are - moving forward to the next frontier: back. Back to where we were before. We don't want to travel backward, but we want to be in Minnesota again. Maybe this juxtaposition is what I've been wrestling with most. How can we continue on a journey forward while heading physically backward? Yes our home has changed, but it's mostly the same. Yes we've changed, but we're mostly the same. We look forward to the familiar faces and places and activities, but want more than simply to resume our old lives - the way they were.
How exactly? We're uncertain. And to be honest we wish we had more details sorted out already. Going back to no jobs, no car, and a temporary place to stay is daunting. We say we want to continue being open and flexible, to have more adventures, to not slip back into life two years ago, but want the comfort and stability of all the pieces of our past that we uprooted from. Will we be able to embrace the unknown with faith, trust, and patience? Will we be disappointed if or when life's turns point in more 'ordinary' directions? Will we be able to continue stepping out of our comfort zones in a place where those zones are significantly larger?
Despite those worries that seep into our minds on occasion, we are doing well. Hilary tells me not to sound so dismal. We've been enjoying our last moments with friends here. This has been a season of abundant blessing for us. We're very grateful. And excited to see what happens next.
With love,
Mike and Hilary
