Moving Day

This map of Africa was the last item left in our house in Ambridge just before my Dad and left a week ago.  It's fitting, I think, that the final thing I removed from our walls is a representation of what has become the focal point of our lives.  We came to Ambridge not knowing that we would leave for Africa.

It was 8 1/2 years ago when my Dad and I drove a Uhaul from Austin to TX to Ambridge, PA, a Uhaul loaded up by our Austin community, and would be unloaded by what would become our Trinity community.

And now it many ways it ends as it began.  My Dad drove up from Texas to be with me as our Ambridge community loaded up our Uhaul trailer (much smaller this time since we're not not carrying as much to Texas and Uganda).  The community that came was actually a good representation of our life in Ambridge.  It was a mix of people from the Trinity community from across the years, from the Church of the Savior (our home church in Ambridge), and even folks we hardly knew at all through friendships in Young Life.

Joe Afflerbach and Alex Ielase deserve particular mention.  They were there from start to finish, organizing and packing our remaining worldly goods into a surprisingly small space in both the Uhaul storage space and the trailer.

It was a more difficult several days of packing than what I had anticipated.  I had just returned from a wonderful time with my wife's sister's family in Northern Virginia for Christmas, sending Leslie and the girls on ahead to TX via a plane flight, and leaving Jesse with his cousins in VA until the final packing was done.  I thought Sunday I would be done with the packing on Sunday, piddle around Monday and Tuesday, and be on the road by Tuesday morning.  Both my wife and Dad thought that was unrealistic -- and they were right!

There was a LOT of work to be done in the three days I had left to myself, and it would have been impossible without my dad's presence and the guys and one gal who showed up to help on Tuesday.  But let it not be forgotten or ignored that my three days of hard packing only happened because of three months of hard packing by my wife!

 

Packing for us was uniquely challenging since we had to consider what we would put into storage for three years, what did we want to bring with us to TX for easy access during our time of transition, and what would be packed to be ready to be sent to Uganda.  It's hard to choose -- and as we choose, it's hard to decide what we truly need and want for the next season of life, and to let go of the rest.  Leslie did most of this hard work.

Through that mysterious mix of God's grace and hard work, we did indeed get packed up.  Dad and I then had the anticlimatic moment of being unable to back the trailer out of our unfairly steep driveway.  Yet once again, as I mentioned in the previous blog post, we encountered God's provision.  Dad said we needed someone with a four-wheel-drive vehicle, and I knew of no one.  We decided to call it quits for the night, and instead make the hard decision of where we would dine for my final night in Ambridge -- the well known, memory-laden but not quite as tasty Rook's in Ambridge, or the newer but more delectable Sharp Edge in Sewickley?

I chose the latter because of thirst for Beglian beer, but found it much too crowded and the wait too long due to hoards gathered for the Pens' game.  As we turned to leave, there sat the Rev. Canon John Macdonald, Trinity professor of mission and director of the Stanway Institute, having dinner and a drink with his wife.  Through them we discovered their daughter Perry had the very vehicle we needed.  (We did end up spending our final evening at Rook's, Black & Tan in hand Pittsburgh style -- Guinness and Yuengling.  And had the wonderful surprise of bumping into the Grossman's!)

So the next morning I left early to pick up Jesse from VA, while Dad worked with Perry and her brother and, after a series of setbacks, finally got the trailer out and on the road.  We met just south of Morgantown, West Virginia, and made the three day trek to Texas.  Three Hines men on the road -- Granddad, Dad, and Jesse -- and it was such fun to watch the joy of Jesse as he hung out with the two of us, switching between Granddad's pickup and the family minivan, talking about everything from the challenges of changing schools to the inconsistencies between the Star Wars movies, books, and comics.

As we made our long drive through gray days of mist and rain that couldn't quite veil the beauty of the countryside, Leslie began to set up our transitional home at my parents' place in Texas with the help of my mom.

We were happy to reunite in Texas, and to begin this new season of focusing not on how to make a new home in Sunnyvale, but on how to transition well into life as missionaries, both in this final season of preparation and in the coming season of moving to Uganda.

One final thought about moving:  It is upheaval.  Everything is heaved, and everything is up, unsettled.  This applies not only to the boxes themselves, but also to the emotions that are...if not in turmoil, at least in upheaval.  Saying goodbyes, letting go, and not being able to settle down fully since we are not yet at home.  My parents' home is a wonderful place to be, but it is their home, not ours.  Our home is waiting for us in Kabale, and we're ready to be home.  But our thoughts, hearts, things, spirits are in transition, and not yet at home.  So we're learning what it means for our home to be in Christ, as a family.

So we've put the map of Africa on the wall by the door of my parents' house in Texas, where we see it coming and going, calling us homeward.