Butterflies

As a young teen, I (James) spent time with a guy whose passion was lepidoptery – he had the most fantastic collection of butterflies and moths from all over the world. He was also single for a long time, and there may have been a correlation. Many of his prized specimens were exquisitely displayed, expertly pinned to perfectly show a dazzling array of colours against the soft glow of backlit cabinets.

 I remember the first time, under his careful guidance, that I pinned my own butterfly. It did something inside of me. I could appreciate the beauty, but I felt a disquiet, an unease I couldn’t make vanish. It was my first and last. But I kept it for many years, and even after it was damaged in a move, I retained the box. I still have it. But whilst it’s not for me, I can appreciate the skill that goes into pinning and displaying these beautiful insects.

The Hornbys have been doing our own careful pinning for months now. We didn’t realise it until our commissioning with CMS. Ana Laura articulated what we were all feeling: “I kept telling myself, it’s no big deal, it’s no big deal and then at church everyone made such a big deal of it, and I realised it might be a big deal.” And in one collective moment, all these nerves and anxieties and carefully pinned down emotions were suddenly alive and came dramatically unpinned. Less than 48 hours until we fly, and the butterflies have multiplied into a swarm as if intent on avenging my solitary victim all those years ago.

 At one level, it is not a big deal. As several people have said, ‘It’s just 3 months.’ And when you put it into the perspective of a year – it looks pretty manageable, (almost) trivial. Though, to be fair, 3 months seems very different when you’ve had 9 years rather than 43. And yet, on the other hand, it is a big deal – 3 months may not be an eternity, but just shy of 100 days can seem like a very long time when you are immersed in a culture and language you don’t understand. The collective anxiety we are experiencing can be summarised as stepping into the unknown and losing the familiar. Living as we are, in a society (Australian) as addicted to comfort as ours, we trust that this is a good thing. As a family, it’s an opportunity to ‘cast our anxieties on him (God) because he cares for (us).’ We believe that – we think that God cares for the big and the small – and so we practice reminding each other of this truth – a comfort in this middle of (healthy) discomfort.

 One of the things we have been trying to do – is to name the things we are anxious about. Often things are less scary in the light. So here is a small taste:

Dad: Okay, Jenelle, what are you feeling nervous about?

 Jenelle: Diseases – especially rabies. Snakes. Are there snakes? I’m also kind of worried about running out of water for the week, especially while we get used to it. (For those that don’t know – water is delivered and thus rationed. Not uncommon in many parts of the world – but different for us here in Australia) I’m also worried about it being so hot and how we will cope. And sandstorms. Oh, and not having wifi and being able to use my kobo/e-reader.

 Dad: What do you think it will be like?

Jenelle: Very hot. Weird because Mum will be saying everything for us (Kerryn speaks a little Arabic – the rest of us have about 4 words). Noisy – it might take a little bit to get used to everyone praying 5 times a day.

 Dad: Is there anything you’re looking forward to?

 Jenelle: Going to wonderful places. Rome. Seeing Petra. Riding a camel. Hummus. Hummus. Hummus. Meeting new people. Learning about the culture. Learning a little bit of Arabic. Hopefully, there are lots of ice cream shops.

 Dad: Your turn Ana Laura. What are some of the things you’re feeling nervous about?

 Ana Laura: That we might fight a lot because we have never spent so much time together.

 Dad: Anything else?

 Ana Laura: No, that’s it.

(Editor: there might be a few other things)

Ana Laura: Well, I will miss a few things. Like school. And my friends. And the stuff I’ll miss at school. And Ignition Junior (junior youth group at church) and Chloe (our dog). But mostly school. 

Dad: So, what do you think it will be like?

Ana Laura: Hot days and long clothes.

Dad: Thanks for that detailed answer, sweetheart. Anything you’re looking forward to?

Ana Laura: That’s a hard question. All the different foods and pretty views. Playing games as a family. The opportunity of making new friends. Our holiday in Europe. Hiking (exploring) as a family. Coming home.

Ana Laura: What about you guys?

Mum and Dad: We’re a bit nervous about long-haul flights. Little details – like getting our phones connected. Working out the to-and-fro of daily life. Little nerves about safety with young children and having to be vigilant. (Kerryn) Not being able to exercise independently – feeling cooped – not having enough of my own space and getting Covid before we go. I’m also sad about leaving behind Chloe and missing important events (like my brother’s 40th). (James) Not having enough space to rest and recover – missing the sabbath part of a sabbatical. Not being able to exercise freely. Having no language and being totally reliant on Kerryn (and having her get annoyed by that) – I can’t seem to hear some of the sounds, let alone reproduce them.

Jenelle: And what are you looking forward to?

Mum and Dad: Spending time together as a family. Spending time getting to know people from other parts of the world. Eating the food and learning some of the culture. Stumbling along with Arabic and getting to know our language tutor. The weather (sorry, Tasmania). Serving together as a family – in church and perhaps with refugees. Visiting the land across the river. The opportunity to give you guys (the kids) a once-in-a-lifetime faith-building experience and getting to know Christians in an expat context.

 So, there you have it. That’s a wrap, and that’s where we are at. Our next post won’t be for a couple of weeks, and by then, we will have landed in Jordan, been to the church, experienced our first Saturday service, and enjoyed some European sun. I’m sure by that stage, the butterflies will have subsided. As someone said, ‘nerves are simply misplaced excitement.’ We’re ready to say, ‘Goodbye nerves,’ and ‘Hello excitement!’

Love the Hornbys