We did it. And the Lord did amazing things to orchestrate it all and make it less than impossibly hectic. Almost without a hitch, the bit of worldly goods we saw fit to send across an ocean took off yesterday. Eighteen boxes labelled “Mrs. C. COLLIE” (one Mrs. C. COLIE LIE…I had to giggle) left this lovely place we’ve called home destined for North Carolina, USA.

{In case you’re wondering, they’re labelled to me because I’m the American and he’s the alien.}


I cleared out my clothes closet like I never have before. Friends left with bags and bags. I sent the sweet lady who has helped us with cleaning home with a warm duvet and matching bedding, towels and food. Toys and picture frames and books and even my poor cowboy hat, which was after all a little worse for wear. And doesn’t pack well.

More friends came, and offered to take the rest of the clothes and bedding to charity for us. They divided things out and bagged them up while I greeted a neighbour, toasted two cheese sandwiches, printed a copy of my passport, changed a diaper, swaddled for a nap, and passed out sidewalk chalk and a spray bottle. What a blessing to have help! The day was chaotic but…

It is well with my soul.

As we were preparing for this, the Lord spoke these words to me:

The generous man will be prosperous, and He who waters will himself be watered. {Proverbs 11:25}

So we slashed our prices, gave without abandon and underbid offers on the things we were selling. We already have a couple thousand dollars to show for our efforts and we haven’t sold our couches or Mr. Potato Head yet.

I decided to let go of some very sentimental stuff — and while it tugged at my heartstrings a little, the Lord has met me twice already to confirm it was good and right. He is so good to me.

We’ve been cleared out, and the eighteen boxes, containing those things we didn’t part with, are on their way. Except for the silverware, which I forgot to pull out of the drawer for the movers to pack. Anyone want to buy some silverware?

As I struggled through the process of choosing to let go, and give and give and give, I occasionally felt pangs of discomfort, and sometimes even fear. I realised that it’s a fear we always have when we consider giving anything:

If I give, will I have enough for me, too?

But as I think that aloud, I recognise the absurdity. We’ve hardly bought the Bear a stitch of clothing his entire life, and yet we had a pile of clothing just for him heading back to the US, and stacks and stacks to give away.

Where has my life really been characterised by lack?

Couldn’t I…shouldn’t I be giving more?

Even if those eighteen boxes don’t make it across the sea, I am still confident that my provision and my portion, that comes from the Lord. The lines are falling in pleasant places. And the stuff is exactly that.

It is well, so well, with my soul.