february 2008 newsletter...
Preparing for any major move becomes overwhelming. Preparing to move across the world becomes utterly overwhelming. I know that I ought to be preparing my mind and heart for the shift, but I find myself almost daily getting caught up in some relatively minute decision like whether I’ll need a -5 degree sleeping bag, or if a +10 degree sleeping bag will suffice. This is how I manage stress: I get sidetracked. I’m probably not alone in this.
I remember my grandmother, Anita, who I adored, telling me stories of the way she and Charlie prepared for their big move. Life was different in 1947. They headed to India on a steamship, having packed all they’d need for the next ten years in sturdy tin drums (Incidentally, some of these same tin drums rest in my parents’ back storage room, filled with the mildewed accumulation of three generations). In her later years, sitting at her breakfast nook in Ohio, Anita would rest her chin on her hands and reminisce about those ocean crossings; how Charlie only gave her five minutes in the port of Aden to pick a set of china, but how it was because, “…he wanted me to have something beautiful.” With that, her eyes would sparkle, and she’d glance over at Charlie and giggle. He’d smile indulgently and say slowly, “Anita, Amy’s heard this story before.” My grandmother would sigh, shake her head, and move on to remembering how hard it was to prepare for those moves. Every 7-10 years, they’d come back to the U.S. on furlough for a year. Anita swore that the most difficult decisions she had to make regarded outfitting her five children. She talked about how the men in the shoe store thought she was crazy, setting up five lines of shoes, trying to predict how her children’s feet would grow over 10 years.
My preparation dilemmas aren’t nearly so complicated, and neither is my journey. Minus all tin drums, I’ll have two 50lb. bags and a carry-on when I step on the 18 hr. flight in early July. India has changed, and almost everything is available in the markets now. Except for, say, the rich worship I enjoy at St Paul’s, or the deep fellowship of like-minded colleagues. I’m far more fearful about leaving these behind than I am about leaving my central heating. Please pray that I will find ways to store away these experiences. I’m sure I’ll need them to encourage me. My greatest stress in moving is the thought of breaking ties that have grown and blossomed over the last ten years.
I have to smile, though. God knows exactly what we need. From March 13-23, I’ll have the privilege of taking a group of 15 of my students to India, in fact, to the school where I’ll be teaching next year. I had begun planning this trip long before I took the job. Now, I see this beautiful, divinely-ordained overlap between my life in Atlanta and my life in India. I see how God is knitting these two worlds together. There’s really no need for any relationships that have begun here to end when I move there. On the contrary, that’s not how God works: He unites His people here on earth, pulling them closer into an intimacy that revolves around Him, one that will last into eternity and progress infinitely. What a hope we have!
In other news, a friend of mine has generously set up a website for me: www.pilgriminreverse.com. It even has a clock, so you can see the local time in India. In all seriousness, I’m indebted, as I wouldn’t have known where to start. I hope this will prove an easy way for us all to stay in touch while I’m at Woodstock. I’ll be able to upload new photos pretty easily once I get there, and I’m looking forward to it!
Your fellow pilgrim
Amy