Today at I’m (in)courage, sharing more of our family’s upcoming journey — and how that makes me feel. From the post:
“Since 1995, I have lived in 23 homes. Several were in other countries, peppered between worldwide travel. Our six-year-old has been on 49 planes and counting; 8 different countries. Our second-born was delivered in the Middle East.
We are modern-day nomads.
I’m not complaining, mind you. I love the calling God has on our life. I love that our kids have seen cultures, tried foods, and endured ambiguity and long lines that I never tasted until my twenties. My heart pumps wildly with adventure as we navigate foreign airports with a Smart Carte, loaded with suitcases and sprinkled with children delighting in a ride.
But I also love home. I love nesting. I relish those days when the agenda involves staying in jammies, playing board games, and even folding laundry. Regular life. The stuff of liturgy, where I worship over the simmering stovetop.
But for me, these moments seem sandwiched between visa issues, ferry rides hopping islands to head home, and enduring coffee sludging down my throat, thick as molasses, as I’m told in another language that I don’t dress my children warmly enough.”
Head here to read the rest and share your own thoughts about craziness.