the last 24 hours...

The last 24 hours, pre-travel

Monday night to Tuesday night

Some people say that the first 24 hours are the most important, that they set the tone for the future.  I will say that the first 24 hours pre-trip were the worst, and I was dreading landing to see what God might have in store for us.

The 24 hours before we boarded, began with saying good bye to the children, which was so hard.  We dropped them off at Grandma and Grandpa’s house and left with tears, and little Matt begging me to never leave him after this trip.  “Mommy, promise me this is the last time that you leave me.”  L  So sad.

I then went home and tried to catch up on soccer events that needed to be done before I left, so I started scanning medical release forms, and my scanner broken.  SO I set it to reboot, and while I waited, I remembered that I needed to print another copy of our tax returns.  After page 1, I suddenly ran out of paper and then proceeded to go through almost a box of cardstock in order to print the remaining necessary forms.  Somewhere in the midst of all of this, Paul disappeared.

Around 3:30 AM, I decided that the whole computer must be cursed, and that I had quite enough of trying to exorcise it, praying rampant Hail Marys, and that God must want me focused on something else.  So alas, I went upstairs, hoping to find my dear sweet husband packed and asleep.  Well, he was asleep, but not packed.  This was at 4 AM and we were supposed to leave at 9.  I sat on the bed, set the alarm clock for 6 and closed my eyes, but was so angry and worried about forgetting something, that I got up, woke him up and made him pack while I folded the remaining 3 loads of laundry that had been done for about an hour.

Around 8:30, we were confidently weighing luggage to make sure that it was under the KLM 60 lb restrictions.  Paul started packing the car, and I started to look for something for my headache that started right after I took my malaria medication.  Before I knew it, Paul was in the car, and I was promptly sick as a dog, staring in the mirror wondering if I could feel this horrible and sit on a plane for 20 hours.  I prayed the whole way to Atlanta offering it all up for my people back home and crossing my fingers that I would soon be able to keep something down. A song kept running through my head, Ellie Goulding’s “Anything Could Happen.”  Yep, anything can and will happen, our hearts and minds just have to be focused on how Christ wants to change us.

We got to the airport, and it was promptly announced that even though we are with KLM, we needed to meet Delta’s weight restrictions of 50 lbs.  Well, we had 2 carry-ons a piece, and then 8 pieced of luggage – 1 for me, and then Paul and Baby Benny Michael had 1, and then I had brought one for a friend Maria, and 1 with rosaries and crosses and candy, and one for Arthur’s Red Star school, and one for gifts for Anawim people.  I definitely felt sick then.  There was so much more that I wanted to bring, but that I already had to leave at home, and now I was faced with not only paying for the extra bags, but also paying overages on every single bag.  The sweet very pregnant woman at the counter told me that she would give me up to 52 lbs, and that I should try to max out our carry-ons with the heavy stuff, and then pay for 1-75 lb bag. So while Paul tagged them all, I sat and sorted and shuffled, and she weighed and tagged, and even our carry-ons weighed a good 45 lbs, but we made weight for 7, which was certainly better than none.  Ack.

Needless to say, when we finally got to board the plane, we were pretty done.  Pretty done, until we realized that not only were we not seated together, I was seated in the very back of the plane with a bunch of maybe 8 year old children flying to Amsterdam as part of a school exchange program.  I was dreading every second of boarding process once I realized who my seat mate would be.  I was probably ten rows away when I saw this scruffy haired little man take his pudgy fingers covered in ketchup and wipe them all over my cloth headrest.  I sat down with a look of part disgust and part disdain, hoping upon hope that there would be a way out of this.  Suddenly, I heard to frantic mom quite worried because there were two little kids stranded about 2 rows from my husband.  I saw my opportunity and went for it.  “Ma’am, my husband is up there, and I would gladly switch with at least one of them in order to get closer to him.”  Well, that worked, and soon enough, I was seated next to Paul, the crazy noise that would have been my area was being occupied by all children, and the chaperones were seated two rows behind me.  Yay.

The rest of the trip was boring and uncomfortable and not much to talk about.  Of interest though, I hated the KLM plane from Amsterdam to Entebbe.  The flight from Atlanta to Amsterdam was MUCH nicer.  We landed at Entebbe, and Paul looked at me and said, “You know I love you right?”  “Well, what do you mean?”  “I just landed in Africa,” he said.  It was all kind of surreal.

Notes from my prayer journal:  We embark to Africa today. This begins a new journey for my marriage, my family and my faith.  Jesus, I trust in you.   

“Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” – 1 Corinthians 5:17

Soundtrack Song for the Trip:  Ellie Goulding -  Anything Could Happen