Transition Number 5

It didn’t seem long ago that I was on my knees packing and repacking for Uganda. The goal was to fit everything that would be needed for the next 2 years. Even to the extent of looking up YouTube videos about how to fold shirts to create maximum space in the suitcase. Oftentimes my mom would make her rounds around the house to plead her case of being upmost prepared for my first trip outside of the United States. Time and time again I would reject everything she would try to offer me. “How about this shirt Jarid? Isn’t this your favorite shirt?” With each suggestion my tone would become more and more opposed of having another object to bring. In one of our classic family memories, she came in the room crying. “Ok mom, what is it?” She began to explain how she has been researching Uganda, and how they have cans there. Yes, the tin cans. She lifted the object to me, “Jarid, please take this can opener so you can eat the food.” With tears streaming down her face, “Mom, I am not taking that. It’s too heavy and big. I can’t fit it.”

Packing things up

That packing process was more than filling a suitcase. It was a time of meditation and thoughtful pursuits for the foreshadowing of the next 2 years in Uganda. Pondering about the family, friends, and acquaintances I would be leaving. Those who I would be leaving unsure if I would have the opportunity to see again; the co-workers at McDonalds, the fellowship companions of the Church, the college community, and the family. In the moments of meditation, I realized I would be leaving some the best the world has to offer, co-workers, Church, companions, and family. Looking forward, I knew there were greater things, but wouldn’t have expected all of the miraculous endeavors. The times of sovereign provision, and instances of unfailing love that would await a simple corn grown boy (shoutout Earlville) as myself. Simple obedience in faith is what truly makes Him marvel.

These days it’s the same process. On my knees scaping up the pieces of the past years, putting them in bags and throwing them out, giving them to friends, and having a heart to pack as least as possible. (Hey mom, I guess this hasn’t changed.)

During the preparations to return to the United States, one of frames of thinking is the unwise buying selections. Looking at all of the objects, I realize many things were not used to the genuine use of their intentions. Also known as, ‘A waste of money, and space.’ The monitor that was about $100, only a few times it was used. The food in the cabinets, does anyone in the world need this much oil? And what is this… Why is there 20 dry erase board markers living in this house? I told my friend Baam that I would like to be a minimalist. His reply, ‘Could you use the Bible on your phone, instead of having a physical Bible?” Maybe the minimalist lifestyle would be more difficult than I thought.

America to Uganda, Uganda to Hawaii, Hawaii to Uganda, Uganda to Korea, and now Korea to the United States; this is the 5^th big transition. No, it doesn’t get any easier to leave the beloved communities and friendships that were formed, the knowledge and know how of living in a new culture, or getting used to the food, (Indeed I will miss the kimchi.) But as time ticks away, memories are made, and growth in gain, there is a deeper dependence on the One who called; this is to a benefit.

Packing the can opener

On the first departure to Uganda, my mom looked into my eyes and said, “Ok, you will bring one thing.” No, it wasn’t the can opener. With a deep breath, and assuredness that she was in the right, I agreed. While packing for that first trip she gave me two letters, one from her and one from Charles. Both were words of affirmations that have given me affirmation and clarity within this past 5 years. The words are still as fresh as a cup of cold water; the first one being, ‘smile’ from my mom, and the second one being, ‘optimism’ from Charles. The impact of those words and explanations in the letters have been the x-factor of many encouragements in times struggle and have allowed discernment and guidance in my thoughts. Thank you.

As for the whole can opener deal? Sometimes I laugh to myself about it. My mom, so endearing. Now making a transition number 5, I pear up to the counter. I grab a hand full of silverware that is about to be sadly tossed away. In the grasp, there it is a can opener. In honor of you mom, as for as it depends on me and the ability to recall, I will always bring a can opener on each country of commission, international transits, and adventurous endeavor. One is never too old to honor their parents.

Love you mom,

Jarid

  - In honor of Charles Bishop

Johnny, Charles, and I 

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