In a year and a half, we could be starting over completely from scratch. And that is so very daunting and scary. Especially considering that we’ll have one child starting high school and two others in middle school. Not exactly ideal ages for massive life upheaval.

I was awake for hours last night, frustrated. I’m on Christmas break and shouldn’t be stressed or anxious.

But then it dawned on me–through the crazy busyness of this last school term, I hadn’t had time to process the other stress and anxiety in our lives right now. So now that school is done for a few weeks, my mind has a chance to go there.

I hate going there. It’s been easier to just focus on teacher observations and ACSI accreditation paperwork and our Christmas production and reports cards than think about the future. The uncertainty we’ve been facing for the last six months has crystallized into an almost-certainty that our time in Tanzania is coming to an end. We’re pretty sure we can make it work for another year and a half, but that might be it.

A year and a half doesn’t feel very long at all when you’ve spent your entire adult life in a place–almost twenty years. If I allow myself to dwell on it, I am overwhelmed with grief at the thought of what we would be leaving. And when I think about what comes after that year and a half, all I see is a black hole. For someone who likes her life planned out at least five years in advance, that’s what keeps me awake at night.

If we have to leave Tanzania, what would be next? Would we go somewhere else in Africa or would we return to the States? And if so, where? We own no home anywhere; we have literally no possessions in America. The cities in California that feel most like home just happen to be some of the most expensive in the United States–not very promising for a family of six living on (likely) a ministry salary.

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