I’ve spent the last week or so working away steadily at reducing our family’s posessions.

As we make the transition from real people into missionaries; what stays, what goes and what will be kept for a later date become constant questions.

Like most Americans we have a largish home, and a good deal of stuff. We specialize in books, toys, and creative accoutrements (musical instruments, crafting materials, recycled goods waiting for a new destiny, etc.)

I see ‘stuff” as an opportunity to learn, to grow, to have fun and to connect us with others. I like providing my kids with new opportunities through fun things.

Now, possessions take on a totally new light as each thing is evaluated first in terms of WEIGHT, then in terms of how it will stand up to the Ugandan environment, how willing we are to see it destroyed there (possibly), and of course how much we really need/want it. We are bringing eight trunks with us, the max allowed by our airline. They will be FULL. Of course the weight is regulated also. These days everything I pick up I judge by whether it is worth being in one of the eight trunks, is is THAT good, THAT necessary.

The trunks will be the subject of much further debate, discussion and pain as we get closer to deployment and realize how much more will have to be left behind to make room for the necessaries. For now the real pain is involved in shedding many, many possessions.

As the home keeper, I feel the weight of these decisions, and it’s a burden I need to release to God daily. Though David and I are both excited about embracing a simpler life, it’s hard on the kids. And in and among all the easy-to-let-go possessions are the truly important things both large and small that represent our family’s heritage, our memories, our links to each other, to our past, and to those around us. I find myself in the position of memory keeper, memory preserver. I need to hold together for our family what is most precious, most eternal and winnow out the rest.

Among our books I save the ones that have such dear memories associated with them, especially the childrens books. Dog eared and spit up stained board books that have been read so many times the words are stuck in my head. Childhood classics that I have delighted in introducing to my kids, along with the memories of my own early life. And of course the very special ones that are their own dear memories, the books that have spoken to their lives and that one day they will share with the next generation. Many of these books will stay in safe storage here, but many other books will come with us, including the ones that are still making memories today and those that have yet to make memories. Books can be mailed via M bags for $1 a pound – well worth the cost to have our own personal library. But pounds and pounds, boxes and boxes of books have already left us for new homes – books that were fun but not THAT special to us.

Children’s items are another complicated area, fraught with memories, tangled up in desires. I save our toddler table and chairs, imagining my own grandchildren some day sitting in them. All the dearest baby toys are kept, to serve in my moms “gramma room” for now, but later to be returned for making new memories with small friends in our home in the States some day. We keep the classic timeless toys that have a place in our hearts from much play; blocks, lincoln logs, felt kids, our wagon and others. The children are each packing their own trunk with all the clothes and special, special toys it can hold. The Babwisi have almost nothing, we only saw one toy in our weeks stay with them. But our children are not Babwisi, they have privileges that we will not take from them. They will have so much less than the children here and so much more than the children there. It is one of the many paradoxes our children will live with.

Almost all of our furniture is keeping it’s home here with the family who is buying our house, but a few special things will stay ours in storage, a chair, a rug, a bench. The prints on the walls have been pared down to those that hold our family’s story, those too will be stored here. A few precious and indispensable photos will travel with us to make our home in Bundibugyo, OURS.

Then there are the memory items. For each of my children, a large rubbermaid holding baby clothes, shoes, and beautiful handmade items from their first years. Boxes of papers that I have yet to go through and preserve safely, my childhood journals, David’s school records, and endless masterpieces from two small artists, Naomi and Quinn. Special household knickknacks and accessories that are far more to us than they appear.

We are reminded daily through this process that stuff is just stuff, and thatour relationships are inestimably precious. Those items that will help us make new memories, new connections, are the only ones worth keeping. When our lives most precious possessions are relational, many of the other things become easy to let go. God has given us a heart for a people with so little, and yet He has given us so much. We cling to the best of our abundance while embracing their simplicity and find our joy in knowing that God’s provision for our needs is enough. We will never lack as we live by faith. We have seen this in the lives of others, now we are privileged to step out onto this faith road ourselves.