Packing

What is it about packing for a trip that I find so draining? I have never enjoyed travel, which explains why God has placed us on the other side of the globe from our home country. ;-)

Today, I have been packing for a week in our host country's capital. Packing for 5 for a week is a practical challenge - just finding enough t-shirts for the kids that aren't (very) stained can take quite a while. This time, packing means gathering the basics of our homeschool as we can't afford a whole week off right now. It is also challenging because the trip takes 7-8 hours, so we must plan to keep children busy while in the van. Otherwise, boredom grows to petty fighting. Snacks are a big part of that plan.

No matter how easy or difficult the logistics, however, packing unnerves me. I find myself fatigued, grumpy, and worried. The sad part is that I probably could pack much more quickly and forget less if I was not fatigued, grumpy, and worried.

So, the question is, WHY?

I think some, maybe even most, of it stems from my need to be in control. I like things I can control. It is the unknown that I don't like. Piling into a van for an 8 hour trip with 3 kids in a country where toilets are - well - different, is still unpredictable, even after more than 6 years of doing it. Flat tires or other car trouble can lead to hours in a muddy field that doubles as a repair shop, surrounded by hundreds of onlookers, all craning their necks for a peek at the "foreigners." Even slow traffic inevitably leads to excess gawking. I don't tend to savor this process: endurance is all I'm striving for.

So where does that leave me. We are overseas for the foreseeable future, and these trips will always be a necessity. So I must learn to handle this differently. I must find a way to do more than merely survive, be it the trip, or any given day. Is it possible to find grace, even joy in things that in and of myself, I despise? Lord God, give me grace to travel, tomorrow, and always.