Well, have I been woefully negligent in posting, or what? I started a bunch of posts over the summer and never finished them. Until now... so, apologies for the newsreader bomb, subscribers.
Anyhow, the big news this summer, if you don't already know it, is that we are moving! To Hawaii! Mr. Jenspin got a promotion, and that promotion is on Oahu. It hasn't felt real. It gets a little more real as days pass, but I still can't believe it, even though all our household belongings (that which we didn't give away or sell - which was a lot) is in a shipping container somewhere between Florida and Honolulu, our car gets picked up and shipped tomorrow, I quit jobs I loved and don't have anything lined up in Hawaii yet, and we had to say a lot of goodbyes to a community we specifically moved to seven years ago.
We had to do a lot of figuring-out about what to do with our belongings. We purged a lot in some typical summer-cleaning, but we had to decide what really made the cut, as we had a finite volume of a shipping container to constrain us. What comes with us? What sells? What stores? And since it was summer, I spent a lot of time in the lovely home we built and continually improved. I have been sad to leave my gorgeous kitchen, my big screened patio, the luxurious bathtub. And I had to ask myself, Do I love Jesus more than my stuff? And, if I'm honest with myself, sometimes the answer is no. But then, isn't that a fundamental question? "Stuff" isn't just stuff. Could be "spouse". Or "job". Lots of little gods, all competing for our allegiance. Which we so readily surrender.
So, believing that the opportunity was from God, we pursued it, willing to shed things like belongings, like houses, which I've discovered often cause people hesitation in decisions to follow after God's desires. Come, follow Me. Sell your belongings, give the money to the poor. Don't look back. The invitation is deceptively simple.
As we decided to move over the summer, that meant my last day of school - a lot of lasts, really - had already happened. And I was grateful for that, because I think if I'd known I'd been experiencing my last whatever, along with my seniors, I'd have been miserable. And instead, it was a season of such joy. Unlike any other. And that joy, along with a natural sense of completion in graduating off my seniors, made the decision feel fairly natural. I actually went back to campus this fall, to help out with the new teacher's transition the first week of classes. I was glad for the opportunity to see students one more time. But the lasts I thought I'd been spared, I had to confront them. A little. It's a new school every year, but this time it's different. The increment of change seems much larger. It's familiar, but a lot of the students are new, a lot of the faculty is new. New programs, new classes, new people; it didn't feel quite like mine any more.
I keep saying it's not goodbye, it's really see-you-later - and I really do trust that's more than lip service. With modern methods of communication and personal broadcasting, I'm in contact with hundreds of people all across the globe that I otherwise never would have seen again. Plus, our lives have gone in such a crazy path I never would have predicted, I can't discount seeing people again. It's not like we are moving to a beautiful vacation destination or anything. It's just so weird, I keep getting fleeting thoughts like "we are moving to Hawaii. Do you hear yourself??" I don't know when it will really sink in. Or stop feeling like vacation.
If there's one thing that I've learned, moving to college, to grad school, to California, to Florida, it's that I always find my people. And there's always room for more favorites.
Anyhow, we're currently en route, stopping in Indiana to visit family before heading to the middle of the ocean. I'll continue to post updates as conditions warrant. It's exciting, having the prospect of a new place to explore, a new culture to navigate, even a language to learn. It's decidedly foreign, but doesn't require a passport. Aloha!
