It’s been awhile since I’ve written here. I’m not entirely sure why I picked it back up tonight of all nights. We are moving tomorrow, which means that for several days now, we have been packing, packing, packing, trying to get everything (or at least all the big items) ready for the moving truck. I am so tired… and yet, I also needed some way to commemorate this last night in our Quito house. Writing is (and always has been) one of the primary ways I process through complex emotions.
While a part of me is excited about our move and all it entails — living in a beautiful place out in the country, new opportunities to be involved in ministry together — another part of me is sad to be leaving Quito. I won’t necessarily miss all the traffic and noise of city life, but I’ll miss being close to my sister and her family, and close to other homeschooling moms. I’ll miss our big, spacious house. The house we are moving into is quite a bit smaller than this one. We plan to add on eventually, but we will have to squeeze in at first! There are so many things that I love about this house, and I feel sad that we weren’t able to really fix it up the way we wanted. We only lived here about a year and a half (the first nearly four months without any of our stuff), and there were so many projects we just didn’t get around to.
I know it’s just a house, just bricks and mortar, pipes and wires, walls and a roof. Still, I feel as though we’re abandoning someone we just barely got to know. I thought this house would be where we would break our record of the longest time spent in one home (3 years in our first apartment in Japan).
I suppose I’ll have to hold out hope that we do that in our new home at Camp Bellevue (where we will be living and working as the camp administrators). People ask how long we plan on staying, and I want to say “Forever!” After all the moving around we have done in the last several years, if we never have to move again, it will be too soon.