This week I moved out of my bachelor’s flat in preparation of flying to Great Britain. Due to the circumstances of my childhood, I have lived in more than twenty different houses throughout my life. So I guess saying I have experience with moving would be an understatement. Yet this felt entirely different, and very hectic.
First off, there was a sense of urgency. I had arranged for a friend to help, and to borrow another friend’s car on Wednesday. While simultaneously having told my landlord that he could come on Thursday morning to check on the state of the room. With a trip to Belgium coming up the following on Saturday, everything had to be finished within a small time frame. This would have been fine, had I actually finished packing and sorting everything before Wednesday. But, fortunately, the majority of my Tuesday was taken up by an evangelism encounter. Flipping around my plans and leaving much to be done on Wednesday.
The hardest part about moving this time is all the decisions that had to be made. “Oh look at this gift that someone gave me. I can’t take it with me, but it was kind of special – throwing away seems disrespectful…” and “This thing still clearly has value to it. I’m on a tight budget, I should sell it. But I don’t have time for doing so…” By the time we neared the end of packing these questions seemed to pop up constantly. This would have been fine if it was just one or two items, but there were many items. Luckily my friend was being a really good friend. He took to the kitchen, and swiftly decided to pack everything in bags and boxes meant for the second hand store. Without him I may well still have been busy deciding what to do with some “cup that was a special gift” to this day.
Normally I would just throw everything in a box and decide on what to do with it when I get to the other side. But this time I cannot take everything with me. Everything I own will have to go with me in the plane. After all, if I am not going to use it during the coming six months in England, then do I even need it? And if I don’t need it, then is there even a point in owning it? After all, I will one day move out to an even more distant country, for an even longer time. From now on I will have to live with whatever I can fit into two bags and some hand luggage. So, I am going on a trip and I am going to pack…
- normal clothes for about ten days;
- winter clothes, because England is cold;
- bedding;
- laptop and accessories;
- the essential books;
and that’s about it. Shouldn’t be too hard to remember during a kids game.
When we finished packing we brought everything to the second hand store, which happened to be just around the bend. We picked up the borrowed car somewhat behind schedule. Luckily the trip to the landfill went really smooth, and we were right back on schedule. We then visited some friends to drop off some more stuff, before having dinner at a local hamburger chain. After this my friend left and I took to sorting the last bits that lied in a forgotten corner. Around nine o’clock I decided that the day had been long enough and went on to another friend who generously provide me with a temporary place to sleep.
I always knew missionary life would mean getting rid of all of my possessions, but when that day came I still found it somewhat difficult to complete.
