And so we begin!

I have learnt several things already on this trip.

1. A Kia Rio can fit an awful lot of stuff, but overstuffing in the front passenger seat leads to very cramped legs if one actually expects a real human passenger to be part of that overstuffing.

2. Don't buy a 2 year old and an 8 year old hot chocolates and smartie biscuits in Campbell Town and then expect the next two hours in an overstuffed Kia Rio to be pretty.

3. It is never advisable to make a 2 year old and 8 year old share a bedroom.

4. Our accommodation, a fully renovated beach house overlooking the centre of Burnie, is truly and utterly gorgeous, and makes up for 1, 2 and 3.

5. Old habits die hard.

The house is so funky it has a popcorn machine. How could we resist making popcorn as soon as we arrived?

 

In all seriousness, we've really begun this adventure. We left Kingston just as the St Clement's bells were tolling. We managed to fit four striped bags, one huge sports bag, an acoustic guitar, a bag of guitar pedals and 'things', two laptops, two pillow pets, assorted bedding, and a huge crate of other miscellaneous stuff in a Kia Rio sedan. After a long five hours in the car, we're now in Burnie, where we will spend two weeks before leaving Tasmania.After arriving we checked out our amazing house for the next two weeks. It's awesome. It's clean. It's funky. It's tidy. And I don't have to ensure that it is particularly clean and tidy once we leave. Bliss. And to add to the bliss, the kids are (I think!) asleep in bed, after the requisite 'I'm thirsty!' 'I can't sleep!' complaints.

So, that's 1, 2, 3 and 4 covered. But what of point number five, I hear you demand?

Ah yes. Old habits. A while ago, I had a word from God to homeschool Wooja. I have never received a word from God. To say I was skeptical is an understatement. But we've pressed ahead in faith. I believe I am being called to be a more present and intentional mother to my children (and a more present and intentional wife, too). This trip is giving me that opportunity. I am so looking forward to spending time with my children.

But back to the old habits ... standing in Burnie Coles, arguing with Wooja over why she can't have yet another Tinkerbell toy ... the same old irritation, the same old lack of graciousness, that familiar feeling of anger. And I was struck by the thought: I haven't been praying about this. My role as stay at home parent is paramount to this trip. And I am going to need bucketloads of patience, of grace, of kindness and courage. And I need prayer.

Please pray for me, friends. I'm so excited by this opportunity, and am stepping out in faith that God will be sufficient for my needs.

PS St Clement's folk - miss you!

So long ... For now

Today we were farewelled from our home church, St Clement's Anglican Church. I had woken this morning with a huge knot in my stomach; dread about our impending departure. I've spent the last couple of weeks saying goodbye; last night was a fabulous dinner with a beautiful friend, and today was to be our official farewell from church.

We first walked into St Clement's two and a half years ago, and my immediate reaction was I hate this place. People waving flags, big band music - I just wanted to go home. I actually left that first service for about half an hour, to collect myself and calm down. And now, two and a half years later, I feel like I am leaving my home. 

Our first week in Hobart. How could it be so cold in January?!

We've been so stretched at St Clem's. I have grappled more with my faith these past two and a half years than ever before. I have sought the Lord, sometimes with my face on the floor, I was that desperate. I have sought Him, and He has been found. We have become part of a Connect Group (in the old parlance, home group) and our group has been a source of refuge, of testing, of growth.

And now, we are abandoning this spiritual home.

When we first floated the idea of going back to the mainland, I think we both truly believed that we were leaving Tasmania for good. Gradually, we've come to realise that we have built a home here. We have people we love. Amazingly, there are people who love us! So, we are leaving Tasmania with the hope that we will return, but with the caveat: DV. Deo Volente. God willing.

Not long after we began to make plans to leave Tasmania I read these words:

Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that."' James 4:13-15

In every other decision Jim and I have made cursory nods to the Lord. We're relatively capable people, well-educated and not too socially inept so we've been able to push ahead with our own plans to a large degree. This time, we are stepping out in faith. In faith the our Heavenly Father knows us, has a plan for us and will reveal that plan to us. I greatly desire that we return to Tasmania. I could say to people that we are only going for six months; after all, Jim has a job waiting for him in 2013. But I am realising the futility of that. We could say that. We could genuinely believe it. But if God has different plans, then our words are in vain (and on the other hand, we could also say that we won't return but God may think differently!). 

So, while I do hope that we come back, we have to wait and see.And in the meantime, there be cows to be chased, and kids to be educatin'!

The leaves are turning, and our time here is nearly up.

We've made the monumental decision to leave the paradise island which has been home for the past 2 and a bit years.

Paradise found? Yes, this really is our local playground.

I say 'we've' made the decision, but really it has been God who has opened the doors for us ... which helps when I start to feel stressed and anxious (which is often!).

So, we're packing up our things and heading north. Back to the mainland, as the locals say.

Packing up is a bit of an anomaly. Really, what we are doing is getting rid of stuff and then riding out of this town on our metaphorical horse, which in this case is one small sedan which will be filled to the brim with a guitar, four bags of clothing (one for each family member), a box of toys (the selection of which I am dreading), four people (one big, one medium and two rather small) and two guinea pigs. Everything else is being given away or sold for ridiculous take-it-off-our-hands prices, save for a few cartons of books and personal items.

And it feels pretty good. How long can we last without all the personal detritus which gets accumulated when one lives in one spot for any period of time? Our first stop is for six months, and we will be living in furnished accommodation and I am adamant that we WILL NOT accumulate. Certainly we'll have to get a couple of things - bikes for the kids, for example, or they will drive me nuts - but I am hoping that I (and the kids) will happily adapt to not having a thousand and one kitchen gadgets and a trillion Polly Pockets and their assorted teeny tiny accessories which seem to litter the house.

What started out as a way to save serious cash has now morphed into something ... different. More noble? (I'd like to think so, being the self righteous fool I can be). Deluded? Time will tell. But it is exciting, this process of shedding the things which root us to this earth instead of looking ever forward.

Bring it on.