We are starting another phase of transition. In six short weeks, we will pack up once again and head back to the states. Note: I did not say "back home," because I am no longer sure what constitutes "home." When back in the US last Christmas, Lauren was wondering when we were "going home," meaning Moldova.
We have a home now in Moldova, with photos, memories, and a relaxed atmosphere. In the states, we will find a rental or missions home, living out of suitcases and temporary memories.
In Moldova, I know what to expect--clothing, food, markets, and roads.
In America, I won't know what's the latest TV show, latest catchphrase, or latest style.
In Moldova, we have loads of friends, both Moldovan and non-Moldovan. The girls' best friends are Dutch and Brazilian, and we have friends from at least a half-dozen nationalities.
In America, I am going to be known by everyone and by no one. Every knows us from our newsletters, while we have no idea of their life over the last three years.
So while we are excited to see family and friends, preach about Moldova, and eat the occasional pizza, we are heading back with conflicted feelings.
Just where is home?