Arrival

I’m sitting in our home, on Rembrandtstrasse, in Vienna.  Nine bags from America all arrived safely and are scattered from room to room as they are being stripped from their contents.  Two girls sleep in their beds they have not occupied for over a year.  Chris sleeps soundly – he is finally “home”.  

When we arrived at the airport yesterday, Lukas and Maria were waiting.  What a blessing these two friends who feel like offspring are to us!  In our daze of jetlag, they navigated the homecoming as we just let ourselves be put on autopilot.  They had the fridge packed, fresh bread and fruits ready for consumption, toilet paper in the WC and notes on every pillow.  They thought of everything we would need – down to a coffee pot delivering sweet nectar of life so I could finally enjoy a proper Vienna coffee upon my arrival.  I love them.

Now this morning, I am ready to write. 

Scanning our apartment, what seemed like a huge place doesn’t seem as big by my American standards that have been allowed to redevelop over the last year.  We spent time rearranging items that had been assigned new places by temporary residents to our home while we were away.

My feet are swollen from too many air miles – they look like old lady feet.  My nose is bloody – I’m guesing the change in altitude.  I couldn’t find where I packed my underwear.  My fingers are holding water.  My neck hurts.  I have a strange look on my face – a look of one coming out of battle and waiting to take a hot shower.  But … I am “home”.

We have come to the sweet realization that we have two “homes”.  One in America where we have physically left the love and support of friends and family.  They are and always will be our “home”.  We also have a “home” here in our beloved Vienna where friends feel like family and where God has put us to establish roots.  It’s a great feeling – this “I have two homes” kind of place.  It feels good and dual – not divided. 

Now, the biggy – our Addie.  The airport goodbye was not traumatic.  It was – in a weird kind of way – refreshing.  I could feel the minutes tick by with nervous energy prior to the act of walking to the gate to depart.  I sat by her as she sat in her Daddy’s lap.  This little girl turned woman was ready.  We all were.

I knew she was trying to be “strong” – that’s what my first-born leader always tries to do in difficult situations.  Her tears where being locked behind an invisible force field of sheer will and determination.  However, emotion broke through her barrier and I’m glad they won out – tears also hold release and freedom.

Seeing Parker and Libby embrace their sister almost killed me … not to say anything of the sight of her face saying goodbye to her Daddy.  I had to stand back and look away.  I also had to be the last to hold her.  Her physical body was the last thing I wanted to take with me as I boarded the plane.

As I held that baby of mine, I had to whisper any last words of encouragement and wisdom the Holy Spirit would bring to my mind.  I had to remind her that she was ready.  I had to impart words that would land in her heart that were not mine, but God’s.  It was all ok … the tears, the pain, the feeling of the unexpected … all of it was OK.  It’s a new thing – a beautiful thing – and it was all OK.

Walking toward security, all of us red-eyed and holding tear stained Kleenex, the TSA folks were kind.  We kept looking back at her.  She stood there with my Mom and Dad and Eryk until the last possible glimpse of one another was possible … and then we all walked away.  We left behind the old … and all walked together yet separate into the new.  It’s a good thing.

This morning I had to make coffee and sit and read and be still.  In the quiet of the morning, I am at peace.  This feeling of new peace, a new thing, freedom is so … unexplainable.  Everything around me is familiar and yet it is all strangely new.  I find myself throwing away, taking down, or getting rid of anything of the “old”.  All the “old” is gone.  It’s a great feeling.  It’s a God feeling.