March 10, 2013
I might have to move. Again. I’ve accepted that.
Yesterday, my family asked me why we are not considering overseas opportunities.
Because I’m selfish, that’s why. OK? I like my comfortable living space, driving to stores and putting purchases in the trunk, reading signs in town, and having steady electricity in my home.
Since November, I’ve been helping my husband look for work anywhere. Well, anywhere INSIDE the USA. Maybe the Caribbean, if need be. Alaska and Hawaii are OK with me. And so far, we have had very little in the way of success at finding that next job. He has had a few phone interviews, but the follow-up has been the letter of “we chose to go another direction.”
So yesterday, they asked me. Selfishness isn’t really a good answer to the question. Because my family is all on the west coast of the USA, I say. Yes, and how often do we see them? Truthfully, about once every two years. And I slowly realize, I have no reason at all to tell God I won’t go overseas again. It’s not comfortable. It’s downright wrenching. And then I let go.
Well, mostly let go. I enter the favored website and put in all our combined qualifications, and then I carefully select two opportunities I might like. One is in the Caribbean. I go on with my Saturday, feeling much better. And praying for a job in Puyallup or Uhio. Or the Bahamas.
Sunday morning, I check our email. That should be safe on a Sunday. And there is an inquiry from a school in Bangladesh, a request that we apply. That is by no means a done deal. I’m not packing. But my heart is challenged today, to consider it, seriously and prayerfully consider moving back to an inner city, with its poverty and the amazing opportunities to share hope and joy in a dark world that knows it is dark.