I think I would have preferred Somali pirates to have captured our container ship than for it to have arrived a month ago.

It would have been much more exciting.  It would have also been a justified and understandable wait for our children.  “Sorry, son, no, that’s all the clothes we have right now, the rest are with the pirates.”  I would say.  They would have dreams at night of Captain Hook riding around on Tanner’s bicycle on the poop deck (why is it called a poop deck anyway?).  They could be jealous of the Somalis getting to play X-box Battlefront II.

But, no, instead all of our things are in a warehouse that we pass the neighborhood of almost every day.  Our teammate Murphy has worked nonstop in negotiations to free our goods, but there is always one more document needed (for four weeks or so).  The worst thing is that we actually touched and saw every piece of it.  Yes, it was almost more than we could bear.  We had to verify its contents when it was unloaded by customs and placed in the warehouse.  You could smell Togo when the container was opened and there was even a wisp of Togo air and warmth that wafted from the interior as the doors swung wide to reveal our stuff, that we could touch but not have.

The boys, though, have done very well.  This has definitely helped them to pray more.  They have even begun to use phrases such as ‘not what I want, but what You (God) want is more important.’  Yesterday, there was a glimmer of hope in the morning that it would be released and we gathered for prayer.  They were more thankful to God for all the things he has provided in the interim than woeful for the stuff so close and yet so far away.  Good stuff for mom and dad who are more frustrated from the lack of closure and beginning to sweat the storage we will have to pay the government.

But, we are hopeful.  I mean how many more documents can they possibly ask for?  The dossier is getting rather full as it is.  It has also been an invaluable lesson for our family of how our lives don’t consist in the abundance of our possessions (especially when our abundance lies in the hands of others).  We have all grown to enjoy the simplicity of the banana leaf chairs for our living room, the patio furniture for our dining room and the mattresses being on the floor which has ushered in some phenomenal pillow fights and wrestling.

I believe, though, that we would all trade the simplicity for the ecstasy of getting our stuff.  This of course would all be followed by the guilt of having so much and then giving some of it away to ease our consciences.

Until then, I’ll just watch Pirates of the Caribbean a few more times and imagine Captain Jack Sparrow cranking up my table saw to repair the deck.