This is the day

At 6:30 pm this evening, a British Airways 747 will take the Weiseth 4 to balmy, sunny London to visit some much-favoured friends for a week. Sean told me to "ring when we're ready to be collected," which I believe means "call when we're ready to be picked up." One never really knows what these Brits are talking about.

On March 1, we leave Heathrow for Johannesburg, and a short flight from Joburg has us touching down in Gabs around 9 in the morning on March 2.

Let me start a new paragraph now, the standard writer strategy for particularly emphasizing a point. We are so deeply thankful for the truly incredible sendoff we received these past few weeks from people all over the Puget Sound, and beyond. Thank you, friends and family. We feel your collective push behind us as we slingshot off the continent. We will miss you very much indeed. And now, to the skies!

Panic! at the Weiseths

Chaos reigns in the Weiseth house today. Gotta have everything boxed by tomorrow morning, when it all goes out the door - minus four sleeping bags, a box of cereal, and the laptop.

4540

No, it's not Van Halen's latest album. It's the amount of dollars it costs to send a family of four from the Pacific Northwest to a place just shy of the Northwest's antipode. I can't recall the last time I saw a number that big on my credit card statement. It gives one a bit of pause, thinking about the amount of resources it takes to move that far.

In different circumstances I might rethink this undertaking, wondering if just donating that money to equip people already on the ground (to utilize one of the most overworked news phrases of this past decade) would be wiser. As it is, I am celebrating a clear sense of calling in this venture. So many things have fallen into place, and our hearts are so at peace with this move, that there can be little doubt for us as to the Lord's calling.

Interdependence

As a prospective missionary pilot ten years ago, one of the things I found most daunting was the idea of raising support. The idea that I should ask people for money at the time was abhorrent to me. I am beginning to come to terms now in a way I didn't then with the roots of that revulsion: Pride. Fierce independence. Disbelief that, when things become critical, God will provide what I need. And perhaps, deep down in there, the desire to keep my relationships slightly off balance in my favor. Maybe I want people to owe me more than I owe them; to need me more than I need them.

What a perverse view of both God and man! When I read Paul, I see him celebrating frailty, because it forces us into dependence first upon God and second upon other people - an intimate, vital connection. As I am stripped of much of what enabled me to live under the illusion of independence, may I be given a new view and a new heart. May I celebrate my dependence upon others and the link that is forged when we drop pretense and admit need. And may I ultimately stop trying to build my own little kingdom, and instead state my fealty to the real King

Status Check

Thus begins my first official blog post. I would entreat anyone who has any blog-sense to kindly give me advice, harsh though it may be, on how to do this better. I am a blog neophyte of the first order.

Here is a bit of a status update: We are currently eying the 23rd or 24th of February for departure, and are hoping to spend four or five days visiting friends in the unreasonably frigid UK before we press on to balmier climes - namely, Gaborone, Botswana. Much remains to be done here in Tacoma before we depart, and I won't bore anyone with details. But if you've ever rented out a house, I would covet your input.

In the meantime, the energy builds! Caleb and Malena, while ecstatic about the adventure ahead, just had it sink in that going there means departing from here - and thus saying goodbye to grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. If you think of it, pray for those little guys. This is a real opportunity to build and exercise faith that they are held in strong hands, even though the end of the known world for them is a mere seven weeks away.

I shan't blather on. . . peace to each of you.