And the Answer Is . . .

So, as you know, we took a trip to Boquete, Panama, with the purpose of considering a move there.  And Boquete was absolutely beautiful.  Lovely and fascinating people there.  It was an exciting week!  And as we discussed the idea of move a couple days ago, we found that we felt absolutely, positively . . . neutral.

Yep.  Just kinda neutral.  It would be fine to live there – some ups, some downs.  But we didn’t feel any genuine pu-u-ull. 

Hubby loved the terrain, but didn’t necessarily yet see a place for himself there yet.

I liked the climate and the ministry opportunities, but I still worry about the girls having much of a social network.

The youngest LOVED the adventure of Panama while we were there, but she realized when we came home that the adventure aspect would end and life might not be quite as exciting then.

The oldest . . . well, she told us on the first day she didn’t want to live in Panama.  She’s had to deal with a lot of changes the last few years – and college is coming in a couple years – she just wants to limit dramatic adjustments in her life as much as possible.  Understandable.

But overall, we decided that a collective feeling of neutrality probably isn’t strong enough to carry us through such a major decision.  Not that neutrality is a bad thing.  Personally, I find it very encouraging that I was spiritually brought to a point of submission that I was willing to do this thing – this thing so very out of my character – if it was God’s will for my life.  Willing and cheerful, even.  With little major anxiety.  If the whole venture was just about bringing me to that kind of submission and trust and peace, it was worth it.

Or if it was just about making hubby consider his retirement years more seriously . . . what exactly God has called him to when life isn’t about financially supporting the family anymore.  Or if it was just about the oldest thinking seriously about her next few years of life and what she wants to do and doesn’t want to do with them.  Or if it was just about awakening in the youngest a passion for adventure.  Yep, it was worth it.

Not that the idea of moving to Panama – or anywhere out of the country – is off the table entirely.  We’ll continue to explore possibilities for a few years down the road.  Or maybe retirement, when the girls are gone.  But unless a job for hubby simply doesn’t pan out in the next couple months (and we came home to more possibilities open there), now doesn’t seem to be the time for this particular step.

It just seems that if God was beckoning us to this faraway place right now, he would have put in our hearts something more significant than a resounding “maybe”.

Calming the Child

I'm sure everyone's looking for a post here regarding our decision to move or not move to Panama.  Sorry.  We decided to give everyone a few days to recover and digest everything before we discuss it.  But whether or not we go, the trip was definitely worth it.  Church yesterday confirmed this to me.

Our church started a new sermon series yesterday about miracles, and my friend Jeff kicked it off with a sermon about Jesus calming the storm.  He talked about how, as the old saying goes, "Sometimes God calms the storm, and sometimes He calms the child" . . . and both calmings are a miracle.  As my frequent readers may know, I've been taken lately with the idea (not a new one, but one which has been given new life in my spirit recently) that God is not interested in changing the world around us to make our lives easier, but in changing us to make us fit to deal with the world.  Looking back on the last several months, I see evidence of this phenomenon.

I've struggled with depression since I was a teenager.  My natural response to stress, major or minor, is to fall into a pit of despair.  Yet, my husband has been out of work for eight months now, and I've never once found myself in that pit during this time.  We haven't even fought much, which I would have expected with the extra time in each other's faces all day.

By nature, I'm a homebody, a boring middle-aged woman who generally wants comfort, security, and predictability more than anything else.  Adventure has never had much allure for me.  Yet, when my husband brought up this idea of a move out of the country, it stirred my spirit -- aroused visions of a future with him that is nothing like I would ever have desired before, although it's probably a lot like he's always wanted.

As much as I've given lip service to the idea that we were open to homeschooling our daughters through high school if God called us to do so, deep down, I didn't want to.  I felt inadequate to the task and I was ready to give someone else the responsibility.  Yet, with this possible move comes the necessity of homeschooling our eldest again, at least for a time . . . and I've suddenly, inexplicably, gotten very excited about it.  Even to the point of hoping that we can still homeschool her if we stay in the States.

I'm also something of a control freak.  As I said, I like security and predictability, and a lack thereof has always been likely to send me over the edge -- grasping for anything I can put under my thumb, thundering at anything that refuses to submit to my thumb, crying hopelessly over the impotence of my thumb to cover it all.  Yet, I just spent a week in another country, another culture, where I couldn't find things I wanted, couldn't communicate to people what I wanted, couldn't call somebody to get help finding or communicating -- a situation that would have at one time stressed me out completely -- and I had only the occasional brief moment of distress.  I'm not sure I've ever felt so relaxed in the hand of God knowing He was carrying me through.

Many a storm around me these days.  And this child is calm.  A miracle.

Ho-o-o-ome . . .

A parting shot with the
neighbor's dog

The trip home.  Wow. 

Not only did we spend about nine hours driving across Panama through two thunderstorms (which made it all the more difficult for hubby to see where he was going)....

Not only does the Panama City airport have the craziest rental car return system we've ever seen (just pull up to the curb somewhere near the arrivals area, where everyone and their dog is trying to leave, go in and get someone from the rental car company -- our guy didn't speak English -- and have him check the car over, right there in the midst of the madness . . . it was just nuts).

Not only did our first flight get delayed by an hour and a half -- leaving at 3:30am instead of 2am....

Not only did we wait in ridiculously long, slow-moving lines to get through customs at Ft. Lauderdale . . . with one scary-looking idiot leaving his bag unattended at the beginning of each loop of the line maze, even after the airport official specifically told another woman nearby, loudly and clearly, not to do that and reminded her of all the reasons why that was dangerous to herself (someone could put something in there that you would take the rap for) and everyone else (he'd have to clear the room for a bomb threat check) -- and making the rest of us sleep-deprived travelers around him very annoyed and a bit nervous about his behavior....

Not only did we miss our second flight and get moved to another airline in another terminal at Ft. Lauderdale (although I must say, we were grateful for that -- Spirit Airlines' next flight to Chicago wasn't until 4pm)....

Not only did THAT flight get delayed for two and a half hours....

Not only did we have to go through security three different times .....

Not only did we spend hours and hours hanging out in two different airports, trying unsuccessfully to get at least a little sleep....

Not only did we arrive in Chicago right in the middle of rush hour....

Not only did hubby then drive another eight or nine hours straight -- through two more thunderstorms....

But WOULD YOU BELIEVE -- at 1:30 in the morning, at a Shell station just outside of Omaha, we just happened to run into . . . the Ferneaus!!  Our Sioux City friends who just moved a few weeks ago to Burlington, Iowa.  They were rushing back to Sioux City because their oldest daughter is about to have their first grandchild.  But can you believe that??  The Ferneaus -- at a gas station in Omaha -- at 1:30am.  It was positively surreal.

In any case, we arrived home at about 3am after about 42 hours of straight travel with very little sleep, and we spent yesterday recovering.  I expect today will be a recovery day as well. 

And yet, not a single Kandt head was bitten off during the entire 42-hour ordeal.  Wow.  That's the real story.

Monkeys, Waterfalls, and Line Dancing!

Our last day in Boquete was a little more low key, mainly due to the oldest and I having some digestive issues (from the beef at El Sobrason?  Who knows).  We had hoped to go ziplining yesterday morning -- the tours were full.  Then we signed up for a horseback-riding tour -- and then decided against it (thankfully . . . kiddo and I wouldn't have done well bouncing on horses away from potties for four hours).  We ended up sleeping late and going to La Jungla, an animal rescue center near our casita.  Some photos:

This spider monkey was a hoot!  It would reach its
tail through the fence to wrap around our arms and
reach out his hand to hold ours.

A Spanish-speaking macaw named Casey.

This monkey went in and out of the enclosure.  SO cute!!

We were right inside with the birds.  Don't know what kind of bird this was.
Our guide only spoke Spanish, so we only got half the story.  :)

And the youngest was the only one with the courage
to actually hold the snake.

By then, I was feeling better, so the youngest and I decided to check out a swimmin' hole down the road we heard about:

Yep, that's my girl in the water down there.

BEAUTIFUL place, but very, very rocky on the shore and in the water.  We were told we would want water shoes -- but we haven't had any water shoes since we left Jersey.  A possible future investment for the family.

And we ended the evening at the place we started -- Las Ruinas restaurant.  This place has probably the most authentic American-style food we'd had in town.  My BBQ pulled pork sandwich was to die for.  And besides that, we were there for country line-dancing night!

Yep, a bunch of old white gringos dancing to Billy Ray Cyrus
in a thatched hut in Panama.

And so now, we're packed to leave.  We talked yesterday about what we're most excited to get back home to:  the girls said their friends -- hubby and I are looking forward to communicating in English again.  What will we miss in Panama?  The weather and the terrain -- it is absolutely gorgeous here.  And the youngest will miss the sense of adventure!  I think this trip may have awoken something important in her . . .

Our trip back is brutal -- we drive seven or eight hours today to Panama City (with a quick stop at a housing development in a different part of the country on the way).  Our flight leaves at 2am.  Arrggghh!  None of us sleep well on a plane.  We get into Chicago at 9am, and start the drive back to Sioux City (where I hear the temps are in the 90s?  Yeesh...).  Don't expect to hear from me until the weekend -- maybe Monday.  But your prayers would be much appreciated.

More Photos

One of the many gorgeous flowers around here. 
All wild, I believe.  Can't give you names for any of them.

What five bucks gets you at the ice cream parlor.

My friend Carol is into the wild flower pics,
so here you go.  :)

A view of Boquete -- the town there in the middle of the valley.
The Caldera river runs through town and the mountains surround it.

The menu at El Sabroson, if anyone wants to try to read it.

This flower was in the neighbor's yard -- big and beautiful!!

Tuesday . . .

La dentista

We started our day at the dentist.  Dra. Monica Sanjur was great -- spoke English, very friendly, has her own office, just her and her assistant.  We got rather wet, but we got good cleanings at a great price -- $40 each.

Then was the market at the BCP.  (You'll recall that the Boquete Community Players was the theater and event center where we attended church on Sunday.)  Every Tuesday morning, they have a market there with local vendors of a variety of items -- jewelry, cosmetics, handbags, produce, books . . . and FOOD!  We got some BBQ pulled pork from a gringo selling a variety of pig meat.  We also tried arepas, a Columbian item; a corn meal pancake with cheese inside.  Yum!  Another gringo was selling "genuine NYC conies" -- he said he and his friend had been sitting around talking about what they miss the most from the states and conies was near the top of the list.  Hubby also got a chiropractic adjustment for $30. 

Tuesday market at the BCP

Usually, at 10:30 during this market, they have an expat meeting with speakers addressing various topics of interest or concern to the local expats.  Unfortunately, this particular week, there was no meeting scheduled.  But that's okay -- the market was great.

We spent the afternoon looking at properties in the Valle Escondido development, the lovely spot where my youngest was soaking her feet in the creek in an earlier picture.  Beautiful houses in a gated community with golf course, restaurant, fitness club, pool, etc.  Ralph, who showed us around, was great because he was very honest with us about the bringing-a-family-to-Boquete experience.  His family has lived here for a couple years, but his wife and kids are now leaving.  It just wasn't for them.  He's debating what to do about his very successful security business he has here.  We then picked up food at the market to cook dinner in our casita.  But you know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men . . .

My Panamanian dinner -- about halfway finished

About 5pm, a wicked thunderstorm came through.  Wicked because it was directly on top of us.  In fact, if the casita didn't actually get hit by lightning, it struck within a few feet of us anyway.  It was LOUD!!  All my years of living in the meteorologically volatile Midwest, I'm not sure I've ever been in a storm like that.  We laughed at each other jumping at the thunder crashes.  And then, the electricity went out.  This meant no TV, no internet . . . and no stove.  No home-cooked dinner.

So we went downtown again to El Sabroson, a local spot with Panamanian food.  Great rice . . . kind of fatty beef, although hubby like his chicken . . . fried bread and empanadas (Panamanians like their fried food) . . . typical fries . . . and our new favorite soft drink: Kist fresa.  Dinner for all four of us was about $9.

Silliness in the square

By now it was dark and we still had no power at the casita, so we hung out at the square downtown for a while -- because other than the restaurants, the grocery stores, and the hostels, there was NO PLACE open anywhere in town by 7pm.  Fascinating.  Small town life, I guess.

Today's our last day in Boquete.  Gotta think through what all we want to be sure to do before we take off tomorrow . . .

Random Observations . . .

A big, BEAUTIFUL flower in our neighbor's yard

- It’s a pain in the rear to find a place you want to go here.  There are no “addresses”.  Houses and buildings are not numbered.  Streets have names, but rarely have street signs.  Even when you ask for directions, you get, “Do you know where the bank is?  How about Big Daddy’s Grill?”  They tell you, "Go this way, and this way, and down this street, and it's right there."  And then it rarely is.  Or it's poorly marked.  Or it's not open.  Pain in the rear.

- Even if you think you know where you're going, it's difficult to get around.  The roads are two-lane, and people are walking everywhere in town with little regard for oncoming traffic.  Vehicles just stop anywhere . . . one way streets are not labeled . . . it’s tough to find a place to park, and when you do, you’re very likely tilted at a 45-degree angle.  And outside of town, some of the roads are in pretty decent shape, but others are just horrendous.  Really.  Horrendous. Although we're told they're going to be fixed . . .

- There are taxis everywhere, and they’re apparently very cheap.  The woman we ate lunch with said her daughter takes a taxi home from town for $1.50.  I anticipate using taxi service A LOT if we live here. 

- It really does a number on your brain after a while when nobody speaks your language. 

- My hair is curly in the humidity.  I don't know when my hair got so naturally curly.

- Stray dogs roam all over the place here.  And even dogs with owners run around everywhere.

Eating at Pio Pio -- a Panamanian KFC wannabe

- We are much more dependent on fast food than we realized.  For lunch, the girls and I so wanted to just grab a bit of something and eat at the casita.  No place to grab and take anything.  Many, many restaurants – all sit-down.  We did try a Panamanian fast food place called Pio Pio in David, 30 minutes away – not too bad.  And last night, we finally found a "fast-food" place in kind of a shack downtown here in Boquete -- "Milqueburger", it was called.  But it opens at 4pm and closes when they run out of food.  We were warned to not plan on eating there after 5.  But it had tasty burgers and fried chicken.

- Our dependency on cell phones -- that we're quite aware of.  We have no cell phone service in Panama, and it’s amazing how often that has been a source of stress for us. 

- At the movie theater in David, most movies have Spanish subtitles.  But “children’s” movies (Ice Age 4, Madagascar 3, etc.) are dubbed – I guess because they don’t count on kids being able to read the subtitles. 

- It rains every afternoon here.  Such is life during the rainy season.  But the mornings are gorgeous, and the rain has usually stopped by evening.

- As the week has gone on, I've slept better and better.  Last night, I think I slept for 7 or 8 hours and I don't remember waking up that much.

- We still don't know if this is the place for us.  Our youngest definitely wants to live in Panama.  Our oldest is determined she will NOT live in Panama.  Hubby and I are still up in the air.


I've found myself an interesting psychological study while we've been here.  :)  On one hand, I've been amazed at how easy-going and peaceful I've been about things.  As I've noted before, I'm not a spontaneous, go-with-the-flow kind of person.  I don't like the feeling of things being out of my control, and I don't feel in control of much here.  But I don't have that constant underlying feeling of panic that I've had at other times in my life.  A sign of spiritual growth?  Maybe.

On the other hand, I do have my moments.  I fought mild panic yesterday when hubby was much later than we expected getting back from a meeting, and I had no idea how to get a hold of him or how to find someone who could help me find him.  And I cried for a moment after one daughter voiced yet another complaint of a series I'd heard from her that morning. 

It will feel good to be home.  But I can see the possibility of this being home someday, if the Lord leads us here.

Gringos Stupidos!

We went to the La Barqueta beach yesterday.  We were a little concerned because we'd heard the beaches on the Pacific side were not very nice and had a dangerously strong undertow.  But Thelma at church said La Barqueta was fine and gave us detailed directions how to get there (it's difficult to figure out how to get places here).

Turns out, it was lovely.  Here are a few pics:



The young 'un loves the waves!

There were a dozen or so of these little cabana shelters
on the beach -- great place to stash your stuff and
get some shade!

The sand was black -- volcanic sand. 

Our drive home afforded us our most unique moment of the trip so far.  We had to drive through a couple of tiny little villages on the road to the beach, and on the way back, as we approached one, we could tell some kind of festival was going on.  By the time we got into the center of town, we were poking along through backed-up traffic, and people and horses were lining the streets on both sides.  The truck in front of us turned left -- to park we assumed, since parked cars were everywhere -- and hubby started forward into the now open road.  That's when I saw the horses and their riders galloping right up the main road straight toward us! 

"Uh . . hon . . . Idon'tthinkwe'resupposedtobehere!!!!"

The best shot I could get of the horses
through the crawling detour traffic.

He stopped quickly, the horses swerved to avoid us, and a policia came to the window.  He rattled off some rapid Spanish and pointed to the left, the direction that truck had gone.  Hubby swiftly backed up and turned to the left . . . which got us into a detour/parking area trying to get around the races happening through the middle of town.  Nobody was moving much; we feared we might get stuck there and be obliged to hop out and join the party -- which might have been a bit embarrassing after we'd made such a spectacle of ourselves.  Oh, heavens . . . we laughed so hard!!

I'm not sure how we were supposed to know that the only road through the town ahead of us was closed due to a horse event.  Clearly, they just expected folks to be aware of this and avoid the area.  Ah, well!  Call us gringos stupidos!  I just wish I'd had my camera in hand when the horses were racing toward us . . . !!!

Sunday Morning

The "BCP" where Boquete Bible Fellowship meets.

One of my prayers before we left on this trip was that God would show me that there was a community of genuine spirit-filled believers here that we could be a part of.  I had contact with a couple of homeschoolers online and was hoping they would be such people.  Not so confident of that now.  The family we met with for lunch Saturday was friendly but not church-goers, and the other homeschoolers are not in town this week.  So, I came to church Sunday morning still feeling pretty out of place here. 

The Boquete Bible Fellowship is apparently the only real English-speaking church in town.  It meets at the Boquete Community Players, a theater and "event center" opened by local expats.  We arrived at 8:30 for the potluck breakfast hour before service started at 9:30. 

Immediately, I met Karen, an African-American woman from Atlanta, and Thelma, a mother of two boys from Texas.  Thelma sat with us at breakfast and talked about schools and volunteer work at the Casa Esperanza, an after-school program for the Ngobe Bugle children.  (The Ngobe Bugle are the indigenous people in the area -- very poor.)  She introduced me to the Ngobe gentleman who runs the program and we arranged a time to meet at the Casa on Monday.

We heard that the church usually has about 60 in attendance, but numbers were low today, probably because the main pastor and the music leader were both out of town.  But another woman in the congregation led the music -- we sang to some youtube videos of hymns and praise songs.  A retired chaplain in the church preached while the kids went to Sunday School (our youngest attended the SS class and our oldest was drafted to help with the younger kids in another area).

Our youngest and some kids she met in Sunday School.

During one song, I started to cry.  I wasn't even sure why.  I just finally felt like this was a place I belonged, like these were people I could relate to.  We still don't know if we're moving here, but if we do, I will at least feel like I have a home base to come to and get recharged.

Some Photos of Boquete, Panama

I'm having trouble moving these pics around into the order I want them.  Harumph!  But here are some images from our day in Boquete yesterday.


A fast-running creek in the Valle Escondido development --
one area we may consider living in.



My youngest dipping her feet in the creek.  It was beautiful here!  The sound of the rushing water
almost lulled me to sleep sitting there beside it.



Another shot of Valle Escondido.  They have a golf course here, a restaurant, a fitness club and more.



This is what much of "downtown" Boquete looks like.



But then you find spots like this . . .



Another beautiful creek we found on a drive up the mountain surrounding Boquete. 
The mountains were just beautiful -- none of our pictures could do them justice.



A fascinating rock formation we found on our drive. 



MANY houses we passed looked like this.  The girls have vetoed their purchase for our stay here.  :)

We're Here! We're Here! We're Here!

Our casita, in the morning light

(Echoes of "Horton Hears a Who" in that title.  He he.)

After a full day of driving through beautiful Panamanian terrain, we arrived in Boquete last night at about 7pm in the pouring rain.  Kind of a bummer -- couldn't really see a thing in town.  Our hosts met us at Las Ruinas restaurant, and we followed them to their casita that we're renting for the week (they rent it also, but they're house- and dog-sitting for someone this month).

We kept telling the girls before we left that this is a casita -- that means "small house".  But apparently they had something grander worked up in their imagination.  Both were disappointed when they saw it.  Hubby and I were satisfied.  Just what we expected.  Not fancy, but signficantly better than a hotel room, especially at $125 for the week.  Arriving in the middle of the rain (and dark -- it felt like it was the middle of the night) was not optimal.  We see now why people around here have dehumidifiers.

This is a very low-key place.  No air conditioning.  No ceiling fans, which would have been nice.  Lots of animals in the neighborhood; we went to sleep to a chorus of dogs and woke up with the chickens.  The stacked washer and dryer are on the back porch -- the lady warned me to do laundry in the morning or it might get rained on.  Very low water pressure on the hot water, but they said we're lucky to have hot water at all -- very few Panamanians use hot water, so very few places have it.  The landline phone only takes incoming calls unless we get a prepaid phone card.  Good internet service, but not wireless.  And cable!  With many, many channels, and about half of them in English, too.  The girls were thrilled to find the Disney Channel.

One of the many flowers in the yard

We let them watch Disney for the rest of the evening because they clearly needed something familiar to anchor them a bit.  Especially one daughter, who had pretty much had it by the time we got here.  She was tired, she was hungry, it was wet, and none of this was what she expected it to be.  Tears flowed.  This was not entirely a surprise.  We knew this would be a culture shock.  After his visit in April, hubby had returned home saying, it's different enough there, we need to all experience it before we make a decision.  We were prepared for different, and for dashed expectations and readjustments, and for strong emotions exacerbated by travel stress.  But the first night was rather soon for a meltdown.


I think a good night sleep will help, however . . . and seeing the place in the morning sunshine.  It really is beautiful out.  I'm anxious to see how everyone feels when they get up.  I know I'm feeling good!

Two Days In

Killing time at O'Hare
What would be do without technology?

Daughter #1: WE are in a CAR in PANAMA at 2:30 in the morning.
Daughter #2:  Whoa!  How'd I get here?  That must have been some party!!

That pretty much sums up our first two days of travel.

Lots of driving . . . a weak Disney Channel movie in the hotel Wednesday night . . . lots of wait time in the airport yesterday . . . no free drinks or snacks on Spirit airline! (We had to pay for each carry-on bag, too -- what up with that?  Guess that's why the flight fares were so low.)

Emotional climax of the trip (for me, so far): filling out the immigration and customs paperwork on the flight from Ft. Lauderdale.  It was late at night and I was tired, so that may account for the emotion.  But I had a quick rush of, "Arggh!  I don't know what this means!  This is complicated and official and scary and I want to be home in my bed!"  A chemical brain fart, I believe.  I took a deep breath and was fine.

Emotional anti-climax:  actually arriving in Panama City.  As the earlier quote indicates, it was the middle of the night.  It was too dark to see much of anything, and we were tired.  I'm looking forward to seeing things today.


Not that I'm not still tired.  Didn't have a great night's sleep last night.  But I did sleep some, which is always better than none, and I think hubby is doing all the driving today.  Off we go, into the hot, humid yonder!  :) 

And Off We Go . . .

We leave today. We arrive in Panama City tomorrow night – actually in the wee early hours of Friday morning .  And we pull in to Boquete Friday around dinnertime.  This is it.  The Big Trip.

I’m trying not to feel pressure about this.  Trying to forget that the purpose of this visit is to make a monumental decision about our and our children’s futures.  No stress.  Just a vacation.  What am I worried about?



I love this picture.  "Security Checkpoint" --
as in, "Check your sense of security here."

Here’s what I’m worried about.  Number one: I’m worried about traveling.  Being in Boquete for a week should be cool. However, getting to Boquete is likely to be exhausting.  Drive to Iowa City . . . hotel . . . drive to Chicago . . . evening flight to Ft. Lauderdale and then Panama City . . . get a rental car in the middle of the night . . . find the hotel, check in and try to sleep . . . wake up, breakfast with a contact person there, then drive seven hours to Boquete . . . I’m stressed just thinking about it.  I’m afraid we’ll be grouches.  I’m afraid one of us will kill another of us before we get there.  That wouldn’t set the stage for a pleasant visit.

Number two: I’m worried that we’ll decide this isn’t what God wants us to do and all our friends who are all psyched and excited about the possibilities here will be let down.  Isn’t that stupid?  I had to write that here just to look at it and see how ridiculous it is.  I’m afraid that God’s will for our lives will be disappointing to other people.  Psshhht.  Actually, I'm probably more afraid that they'll be disappointed in us if we decide not to go:  they'll think we’re flaky . . . that we wimped out . . . you know . . .

Number three:  I’m afraid we still won’t be able to discern God’s will clearly after the trip.  As luck would have it, Keith has recently had more job opportunities pop up, and some are rather inviting.  One in Virginia – an awesome place to live and study Colonial times and the Civil War in the next couple years.  A couple in Texas – a great state to have residency in if we choose to go to Panama at a later date, and a great state to homeschool in.  We’ve kind of debated whether a few more years of employment here in the States might make the Panama idea more financially comfortable . . . ugh.  SOMEbody just had to complicate things for us.

But I’m trying to forget all that.  If nothing else comes of it, a week with our family living in a small home in a small town in Central America should be a fascinating life experience.  I want to concentrate on that – what this trip can do for us now, not just what it means for our future. 

I expect to blog as we go, so check back for updates.  And as always, prayers are much appreciated!

The Tyranny of Stuff

Commenting on an earlier post, a friend recommended a book called The Quotidian Mysteries, by Kathleen Norris.  In it, I found this amazing prayer by St. Teresa of Avila:

Thank God for the things that I do not own.

Brilliance!!  This statement has rung in my ears since I read it a couple days ago.  And its sentiment has burned in my heart for a few months now -- maybe longer.  But definitely since I started considering the idea of a move to Panama and what would happen to all our stuff.

I find myself occasionally looking around the room I happen to be in and considering, What here is important enough to my daily living that I would pay to have it shipped to Panama?  And similarly, What, of what's left, is of such value to me that I would perhaps pay to have it stored here in the States?  These considerations have been very enlightening.

Our last four moves have been paid for by the company hiring my husband.  This means we haven't had to pack and move our own possessions anywhere since 1991, I believe.  This has spoiled us.  We haven't had to do the good, healthy work of weeding out the unnecessities in a couple decades.  Yes, I weed occasionally, but not in a complete, cleansing way.  And the result, I think, has been an unhealthy dependence on things. 

For example, I have a shelf full of candles here in the kitchen -- most of them given to me as little thank you gifts or whatever from various friends.  A nice girlie present, you know.  But I rarely burn candles.  Are they worth packing up for Panama?  No, of course not.  Are they worth paying to store somewhere?  Well, no.  So, why have I kept a collection of a couple dozen candles I don't ever burn?  Well . . . I keep thinking I may want to burn one of these some day . . . other people burn them and enjoy it, maybe I should get into the habit . . . they look kind of decorative . . . blah, bl-blah, blaahhh.

I have a shelf full of varied cleaning products in the laundry room -- most left over from hubby's working days in Springfield (we left there in 1998) when he could get such products from his company for free or very cheap and he chose to stock up.  Are they worth packing up for Panama?  No -- I rarely use them.  Are they worth paying to store?  Of course not.  Why have I kept them?  Well, occasionally, the need comes up to polish some silver or brass, or to get something sticky off of a glass surface . . .

And then we get into the cooking utensils, books, craft supplies, toys, office supplies, board games, DVDs, CDs (and record albums), decorative items, tools, sports gear, Christmas decorations -- blah, bl-blah, blaahhh.

Norris writes: "I sense that striving for wholeness is, increasingly, a countercultural goal, as fragmented people make for better consumers, buying more bits and pieces -- two or more cars, two homes and all that fills them -- and outfitting one's body for a wide variety of identities: business person, homebody, amateur athlete, traveler, theater or sports fan.  Things exercise a certain tyranny over us."

Sigh.  Amen.  If the truth of this truth truly sinks in, it should change us dramatically.

An Astonishing Move

I've never been the adventurous type.  I like security, stability, predictability . . I take new things in small doses when I take them at all.  This is why I was rather astonished at my reaction when hubby asked a few months ago what I thought of the idea of moving out of the country.

My reaction was: hmm, I can maybe see that.  I was even more astonished that our daughters' reactions echoed my own -- even the daughter with the history of anxiety issues. Sure, that might be cool.  More astonishment that, of the two places my husband was focusing his attention on, the girls and I unexplicably all zeroed in on the same one: Boquete, Panama.

Yeah, it might be nice to have a real change.  A slower pace, a simpler lifestyle.  Beautiful weather and terrain.  The challenge of adjusting to a new culture, learning a new language.  Hubby could basically retire with the lower cost of living there -- he could relax and let God direct him to where He wants to use him there (the way I've been able to do every time we moved). 

Boquete is desirable, too, because it's something of an expat haven.  Many Americans live there who have paved the way already.  You can get by on English pretty well for a while.  They have frequent get-togethers where you can feel a taste of home again.  They've even started their own community theater in town, for pete's sake -- talk about right up my alley!  I've been in contact with some American moms down there -- homeschoolers, even.  Ministry opportunities nearby, including an orphanage -- right up our girls' alleys.

My husband just got back from a conference in Panama City for expats considering a move there.  And there's another astonishing thing: they just happened to be having this conference now, when we're considering the idea and when he is unemployed and free to go.  And other "coincidences" keep happening as we mention the idea to friends here and there.  "We have friends in town who used to be missionaries in Panama." "I stayed last week with a couple who used to live in Panama."  "My cousin is living as an expat in Panama City -- you want his email?"

And the big "coincidence":  when hubby and I started discussing this, he had four good job possibilities out there.  We prayed, a lot, and decided that if none of these jobs panned out (which at the time seemed so unlikely), we would take that as a serious nudge from God that he wanted us to turn our attention to the Panama idea.  Well, the jobs have dropped one by one -- very slowly, interestingly enough, which is also unusual -- and the last one soon after he returned from the conference. 

So, we're all flying down to Boquete for a week or so in late June, because hubby said, this is so different, you all need to experience it yourselves before we make a decision.  But just the fact that we're seriously considering this, and even excited about it . . . well, that's astonishing.  And frightening.  And thrilling.  Prayers are welcome.