It is that time again. I'm packing.
How did one team member say it? "We’ve got piles of supplies and gifts accumulating in our staging area and are praying earnestly for our time together." My own staging area is a group of boxes in the corner of a bedroom. Each day a few more items get tossed into the boxes. Next week I'll sort the piles. Then the "China tub" will come out of the closet and the clothes that only get worn in China will go into bags.
There is final preparation of notes, materials, prayer calendars, training for the team who will not meet each other until they all land in Beijing. Emails fly back and forth with administrators. I move ahead, knowing exactly what the hotel and university look like because I've been there so many times, and I realize that the first time team members will see it very differently.
I will see familiar halls, streets, trees, vendors. They will see dingy light fixtures, crummy carpets, hard beds. I will hear voices that are comfortable and friendly. They will hear Chinese! I anticipate foods that I relish; they will look at the table and ask "Where is the Chinese food I get at home?"
Right now I am relishing the cool nights of Michigan, the bright sun of each morning, the crystal clear skies and fresh air, bike rides into the sunset. Next week I hit smog, heat, and humidity. I have one week to get my mind around leaving home and going "home" to Beijing.
A friend asked me the other day if I feel at home anywhere. Even after reflection I couldn't decide whether to answer that I feel at home everywhere, or that I feel never at home anywhere. Both are true. But isn't feeling at home greatly overrated? Abraham is described in Hebrews 11, "he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents (hotels?)...for he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God."
Looking forward to a city made by God. Full of Chinese friends. Former students.
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