Mile 265

... if you want to start counting from the border. We've kind of already started the trip; we just stopped off at our house along the way to pack up all our stuff.

Things are depressing here. We're excited about what lies ahead, and once we get on the road and start the journey I think we will get into the mood. Right now the only thing we see is packing, and leaving our world here in Madera. Yesterday was our last Sunday at our church here; our pastor spoke on friendship, and had us come up front, and did the whole farewell thing - people giving us verses, messages, gifts. Sang a song for us. Potluck afterwards. Very nice, but also very sad.

This afternoon I took some time out of the packing routine to run a box of apples out to the children's home. Things seem to be going well there; there are 28 kids there now, but also 4 men and 3 or 4 women helping out, working with the kids, with the animals, the cooking and the laundry. The place has changed quite a bit in some ways since we got here, and in some ways hasn't changed much at all.

I think Honduras is going to be a good thing, but at this point, it's hard to leave. This has become our home. We can hardly drive across town without seeing and waving to someone we know. We know the vet, the mechanics, the gas station workers, quite a few of the checkers and workers in the grocery stores and hardware stores by sight. We've had dealings with most of the police officers in town (all in a good way!), some of the local government officials and all the emergency medical guys in town (also in a good way). Living in a small town like this, anywhere, it tends to grow on you. I guess the only thing we can hope is that we've left an impression as well - a good one. Whatever our reasons or purposes for being here, completely aside of anything to do with the children's home here, we walk the streets here everyday as ambassadors for both Christ and Uncle Sam; from the moment people see us here, they see us as gringos, and from the time they talk to us and find out why we are here they know we are Christians and missionaries. Our mission here, to a great degree, has been to positively represent both rolls to the best of our ability to all who see us.

In some sense, the role of missionary - at least in where we are and what we do here - is a self-terminating role, kind of like that of a parent. As hard as it is, if all goes well the time comes when your job is done, and it's time to move on; and as much as we have found our place here and settled into the town and the life here, as much as there are still projects and work at the children's home, with the level of help they have there now they don't really need us - not so much that it's worth the resources for us to live here. And so as we try to shoehorn all our stuff into the truck - and now a trailer, too - and travel on to the next chapter in our lives, it reminds us that the entirety of life itself is a mission, it's all-too short-term, and that someday we will be called upon to leave all this behind as well, and move on to something else.

Gracias a Dios we don't have to pack for that one.