A repose of heavenly order

I love to travel. Actually, I love to be at places - I hate getting there. Planes and airports are fun, but not fun in a traveling sort of way. Good place to people watch, bad place to lounge. Tomorrow will be full of both. I do look forward to the McDonald's in the Frankfurt airport, but unless I get a free upgrade to the "able to sleep and move around" class in the front of the plane, I'll be sitting in cattle car class with the rest of civilization. Here's the good thing though, I only have one carry on and my two check-in bags are so light that I had to pack creatively so my exceptionally dirty clothes don't get all sloshed around.

We packed really well to get here. I mean, really well. Major packing achievement. But when we came, things were well packed and we had no room for anything. Returning to the states, your loosely packed, the supplies are gone, the bubbles are gone, the 12 packages of ziplock baggies are gone, the toys are gone, and it just seems like you are left with too much room in your suitcase. You're also left with too much room in your hearts.

I miss Anne and Zachary and it is now officially forbidden for anyone to talk about their family until we are actually inside the DFW airport. I even got to talk with them briefly, but I miss them. I want to be home. I want to hold them and hear her voice and his laugh. But, where we came here heavy, we're leaving awfully light.

To say the trip was a success would be unfair. How do you gauge this? Decisions for Christ? Maybe, but that's not our job nor was it the purpose. He is the Lord of the harvest, we're just workers. Did we accomplish everything? In some ways yes and in some ways no. The camps had changed so we had to improvise. Frankly, I think the improvisation worked better than what we had planned. But we loved the kids and we received profoundly high praise from the directors and from the Buckner staff. Everything that did come off, came off perfectly. Perfectly. Did we have everything we needed? Yes. Did we love every minute? Yes. Are we sad to leave, but happy to go? Yes. We're coming home and what a great trip we had. God has shone His grace upon us and I feel we wear it now like sunburn.

Instead of supplies, my suitcase now contains a few souvenirs. It also contains clothes that I really should just burn, if they'd even light. Does dirt burn? How about sweat and slobber? Instead of anticipation in my heart, now there is just a lump. A feeling to be fed or ignored depending on the moment. No, not a feeling, a reality. A reality that God is amazing. A reality that the children affect you more than you affect them. A reality that in exhaustive service, comes a worn-out tranquility.

We sleep now for only 3 or 4 hours - if we can sleep at all - before we leave for the airport at 4am. We'll close our eyes and find ourselves reflecting on kids and desiring family and familiarity. We'll sleep as servants should, and find whatever rest God will give us - a repose of heavenly order.