Leaving Okinawa

We are leaving Okinawa after having been here for three years.

The movers are coming in the morning. Our house is in ultimate chaos at 10:15pm, and there’s no hope of it changing shape by morning.  We’ll be living out of a suitcase for 3 months, stocked with clothes for the tropics and the tundra. We find ourselves lost in the details of the work required for a massive move like leaving Okinawa, and the expectations of what home will be. However, there is an anticipation rising in our hearts for  HOME.  Home used to strictly mean Boise. Then it stretched to mean Idaho in general. While Idaho is still the core of what home means to us, America as HOME has taken on a whole new level of comfort.  

What is going on at home?

During our time in Okinawa, we experienced hit after hit of unfamiliar tropical storm. More times than I can count, the storms ravaged our plants. While we were there, our beloved home was bleeding out, taking hit after hit of storms far worse than hurricanes.  Everyone is saying that America is not the same place we left  just three short years ago.  I have a few expectations of what life will be. Things that I have every reason to believe will be the same. But I know things have shifted.  I know that the darkness that led me to keep my babies close is all the more pronounced now.

However, I trust there are still Costcos stocked with organic kale, and finding emu oil for my next skin care concoction will not be a 3+ week wait.  So while we’re feeling the tension of this ‘new America,’ there are still so many ways that our sweet home will be wrapping her arms around us! 

Urban homesteading adventure

We’ve had chickens and a garden at every one of our homes before moving to Okinawa. By ‘homes’ I mean the cities we’ve lived in; we did not have chickens until our third year of marriage, which was our fourth house! (Nomads from the get-go!) We took our homesteading practice up a notch when we moved to Maryland for three years, adding goats into the mix.  Those creatures sealed the deal for us. This dream that we’ve been idealizing for our whole marriage is actually for us!

A time of rest.

God graciously gave us a break from all the work when He called us out to this tiny island. He gave us the sweetest gift of getting to come here and experience the kindest, most gentle people on earth. We are in ultimate safety here. On multiple occasions, I left my phone in my unlocked car in the holster on the dash, only to come out of the mall hours later and find it there. I would run on base and pass a column of soldiers, all carrying huge guns, and felt safe. I would run off base, turn a corner, and find myself faced with a gang of 70 year old ninjas all wielding huge swords, and never felt safer! My kids got to experience my small-town childhood, roaming the base on their bikes and running little errands for me. It was glorious! Leaving Okinawa is going to sting in several ways! However, everything God does is multi-faceted.

We are not made for endless rest.

While the ‘time off’ was a gift from God, He used it to burn it deep into our souls that we are not made for endless rest! We have missed the projects, putting our hands to hard labor and reaping the rewards!  When we go camping, our 13 year old son spends the entire time chopping wood. His innate nature is pining for SOMETHING to do that lets his God-instilled-boy-heart breathe a little.  

So, while things are looking questionable down the pike, (how long CAN I count on that kale being there for me?) we’re not homestead-focused just for that.  It’s an honor to partner with God and learn the thousands of lessons about life and what He’s called us to just through a little bit of farming.

Follow along as we move to San Diego. I’m curious to see all the ways that “practicing homesteading” will be unfolding this go ‘round! It seems impossible at this point, but we’re praying that it includes a milk cow!!  God has blown our minds before, so I wouldn’t put it past Him…