Settling in...

It happened. Our household goods shipment arrived from the U.S. via Hong Kong. 

People have been telling me periodically, "Oh, it'll be better than Christmas when your stuff gets here!" I've heard that statement at least 3 times, and so I got a little geared up for that feeling. 

We spent yesterday unpacking boxes and setting up things, and most of it is done, minus some rearranging and buying of different kinds of containers to store things in. The books we brought are on shelves. I've but some decorative dishes in the china cabinet, and a few pictures are propped up. The kitchen is totally unpacked, though I'm moving things around based on how often I use them. 

But the feeling they said I would have? Nope. Not really. Maybe I brought most of what I really wanted to feel at home in my checked baggage and the unaccompanied baggage shipment? Maybe I'm not that much for a stuff person, or I got used to the bareness of the walls over the last 3 months? 

Or maybe it's that I have my stuff here, but the addition of the stuff doesn't make me look around and suddenly go, "Yep, now this is my home." It's not my home. It's a lovely condo filled with my stuff. My home is still in Raleigh where it's been for the last 9 years, and I don't know how long it'll take for me to feel like this is "home." But it ain't today, and getting my stuff didn't cure much homesickness.

I realized that my last post may have made my life look rosier than it is. "She has a driver?" "She has a helper that makes pancakes?" "Nope, no need to feel sorry for her. She's got it made!" You might think that, but I'll tell you the truth. I would give back the driver and the housekeeper in a heartbeat if I could find a way to live my American life here. I would rather drive my own car and ask my wonderful in-laws to babysit instead of my helper, and I would be fine with making pancakes for my little guy myself. 

I like my privacy, but in order to have any help at all with my boys, I have to hire someone to work for me all day at a set salary. (Swapping babysitting just isn't done here regularly, and you can't just hire a babysitter very easily.) And that person really needs the job that I give her, and though the salary she makes is top dollar for household help, she is still making $20 a day to work for me. Let that sink in for a second. She cleans and cooks for us, speaks good English, and plays with my little boys so I can go to the doctor or go out with one for a little while, and I swear that she never rests even though I try to get her to take a lunch break. And this is a really good job for here. She takes pride in her work, and she certainly keeps our home cleaner than I ever did. I'm thankful for her help with the boys and the house and for teaching us Tagalog, but having another person around all day 2 days a week is hard for me. 

Mostly ditto for the driver, plus or minus a few variables.

I post the good and the fun and the exciting to this blog because I'm pulling up my big girl panties and diving into the adventure. I'm a type A girl, and I've been working really hard to make this adventure feel like an adventure, even when it's been pretty challenging to get out and do and see.

But I've been here 3 months, and I'm feeling burned out. I'm more OK with holing up in our condo and watching Netflix and reading books and staying in my PJ's than I was when we first got here. When just going grocery shopping is overwhelming every time, sometimes you just hit overload.

I have been busy diving in and getting acclimated and learning the different colors of money and how to turn on the gas stove and pay for water delivery and meeting everyone I can at the pool and cornering them to ask for advice. All of that takes time, and some of it is exciting and novel, and there are times that I'm definitely glad I get to do it.

But I looked at David the other night and said for the first time to him (and to myself), "This isn't worth it to me. I gave up so much to come here. You have your job and the challenge of it. But I gave up a life I spent years building gradually, and a homeschooling network that was starting to feel more solid, and the choir that I finally got to begin singing in after the boys were finally old enough for me to have a hobby just for me. And I gave up close friends that I laughed and cried with and grandparents that loved the boys well and did great things with them so I could give up the guilt of not teaching all subjects. I don't have a job to dive into like you do. I have to build the scaffolding of my life and the boys' lives again from scratch." 

I don't think I'm resentful of that. I know that we're both here because we believe that God asked us to come, and though his fulfillment is higher than mine right now, I also know his stress levels in many areas are also higher. 

But I gave up a lot. And I'm beginning to really acknowledge the loss now. I was too busy before.

God is caring for me, and I feel His kindness. I'm grateful. But I'm glad that I didn't know how hard this was going to be ahead of time. I doubt I would've been strong enough to say "yes." Funny how that works, isn't it? He doesn't tell us the outcome before He asks for our obedience. 

I know this isn't the end of the story. I hope that one day I'll look back and say, "God was so faithful. He made a way in so many areas when I couldn't see how we were going to get what we needed. I'm so glad He asked us to come and live in the Philippines for 2 years." 

But right now I'm at the beginning of this, and I can't say that yet.