Micro

As excited as I am to go to Japan, it caught me off-guard that closing my apartment bothered me so much. It was time. It was right. But that was my nest, and I liked it.

My parents were missionaries. Many missionary kids end up going nomadic, and don't settle easily. Perhaps it's a reaction to the pain of ripping up roots. Perhaps it's enjoying the adventure of change. Most likely a combination.

Somehow, this time, I had set down roots. I hadn't understood how many, until I saw all the people who are rallying behind me for this trip. They consider me their own, and I consider them mine. Lots of farewells, "You better come back here," people I will miss and who will miss me. People who love me deeply enough to send me out, thanking God for bringing me to them, asking His protection, and making sure I know that I can return.

Sure. I've left places and people I dearly love before. I know how to push back the tears and "be brave." Lots of practice in that realm, unfortunately. But this time, I need to be utterly real. Mourn the silly overly-big apartment I had, run through the memories of all the healing moments in each room, wince at the tensions, smile about the light switches I never quite figured out. Bawl like a baby at church when it hit me that I was actually leaving, and allow myself to be comforted. Talk openly about how I really don't have a clue what I'm walking into, about knowing Who does know, about needing to lean on God and on people around me. Experience the trepidation of stepping into the unknown. Conveniently forget that I've already hugged the person in front of me twice.

Good healthy response, I'm sure. But the choice to live it is more than that. Where I'm going, people have lost their places, their possessions, their people, their livelihoods, all the visible ingredients of their life. Where I'm going, many of them have never moved to a new life, and cannot even imagine the concept.

Mine is on a micro scale, and largely reversible. I will not pretend to be able to grasp what they have experienced. But without remaining open and fully experiencing my own micro move, how can I even begin to listen to their stories?