In his 1964 Nobel Lecture, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said "We have allowed the means by which we live to outdistance the ends for which we live."
When I first read these words, back in 2001, it was relatively easy for me to accept this idea. I was just starting out and had very little means to begin with, so sacrificing them in favor of spiritual matters such as art, literature and religion didn't seem such a sacrifice. The idea became my motto. My husband and I decided that we would rather do than have. And we were pretty good at that, for a while. Then we had children. And walked loved ones through health crises. And moved around. A lot. And slowly, some of our means became pretty important. Not the tables or the lamps. We don't own anything that we would be devastated to have kids ruin. (Lord knows we have plenty of practice on that one.) But there is a certain type of security that my fingers grow tightly wrapped around, and that is home.
The more we move, the more tightly I hold onto the idea of home and the people we fill it with. I love the moments we share together in that sacred space, the moments when the shoes come off and the walls come down and we become more than people doing whatever it is we're supposed to be doing and become honest about ourselves and walk with each other through all the beautiful mess made of our hopes and fears. The space where we share giggles and tears. The kitchen we dance in. The sweet light of bedside lamps where the burdens of the day is laid to rest along with heavy eyed children. The garden filled with favorite climbing trees and secret forts and piles of collected pinecones. All of these things are precious to me, and somehow I keep confusing the place for the love we share in it.
And that is why our recent plot twist has been so hard for me to accept. We have loved our little life in the Dutch Countryside. We adore the ponies and goats and cows and bunnies that surround us. Not to mention the friends we've made, who have offered us understanding and humor and gentleness in the midst of all of our adjustments (and any of you who have done the expat thing understand how many these are.)
And now I have another chance to hear this quote and be reminded that the ends we're shooting for, for ourselves and our children, is faith. Faith that we can make the next set of adjustments. Faith that we're needed where we're going. Faith that we don't go alone. And that, my friends, is why we've accepted a transfer to England. We will spend the next month and a half wrapping up our beautiful life in the Netherlands and preparing for our next big adventure.
