As I’m writing this, Josie is vacuuming around my feet. That sounds completely lazy and ridiculous, doesn’t it? Welcome to my favorite thing about living in the Middle East. Stay tuned for the next chapter of my life where there will be much whining and crying about the never ending housework . . .
No, we don’t have orders yet. Or even a clue as to what the setting of that next chapter will be: lush green German countrysides? wandering through thick salty fog on the Monterey coast? the constant honking of horns and masses of people on the streets of New York City? Navy base meets East coast in southern Virginia?
Josh and I were talking over coffee the other day (before he flew to Oman) and we were considering all of those possibilities. I dream of Germany. I have aspirations of taking the kids on a Eurorail tour of Europe and of giving them the world, literally. A move to Germany means the kids skiing and snowboarding in the winters and bicycling in the summers. Camille going to German kindergarten and me shopping for fresh produce at the farmer’s market in the village with a basket slung over my arm and a bicycle with a cart on the back to haul it all home. Snowy nights knitting by the fire with mountain beauty all around. Ah, Germany.
I will be disappointed if we don’t get to assigned to Germany. But I also know that we have no bad choices. And I’m sure you’re agreeing with me because all of the above places I listed would be amazing and they each have attributes that could propel them to the top of my list. But beyond all of those great choices, what I’ve learned from our travels is each place has something to teach me about myself, the world, God . . . and it might not be what I would have picked, but God is sovereign.
I wouldn’t have picked Bahrain. Nope, I’d be living happily in 29 Palms, back in my beloved desert with friends who have also been drawn back to the best kept secret in the Marine Corps. But then I would have missed this: dear friends, a different take on Arab culture, more opportunities to travel, and Josie, who makes every day here better. Our life here is good. Very good.
I feel privileged that every few years I get to uproot and try something new. Whether it’s fried catfish and hushpuppies to go with a side of tornados in Oklahoma or clam chowder on the wharf and picking organic produce straight from the farm in Monterey or driving through the mountainous desert in Joshua Tree National park and Friday night Bible studies with our closest friends (because we lived too far away from civilization to go out on Friday nights) there are things that I would have hated to miss about everywhere we’ve lived. The hard part is as soon as we feel like we’re finally adjusting and figuring out life, it’s time to leave. Like right about now. Wherever it is, even if it’s #3263 on our list of desired places, it will be good.