Burka or Cargo Shorts?

This Tuesday Pete and I are getting our regional assignment with MAF. Exciting, right? Or let me put it this way: In less than a week, a group of people whose name tags we still have to reference are going to sit in a room and decide which continent we'll be raising our children on.

Pete and I both left the candidate committee today feeling excited and... tense. We left everything on the board room table: we told them the skills we think we'll be adding to the team, we confessed our desires {please no single-family base out in the middle of nowhere}, and we even told them exactly where we think we would be most effective in ministry. But then we told them we are open and willing, which we are, and we left it in their hands.

For the past three days we've been listening to regional directors describe their programs and the things that God is around the world. After each presentation Pete and I say to each other, "Let's go there!" I think we came expecting God to hit us over the head with a particular power point presentation, but He hasn't. We're just as open {lacking direction?} as we were when we came.

I explained how I'm feeling to the board by describing the week before our ultrasound. I knew we were having a baby and I knew we were going to love that baby. But we were dying for some kind of information about that baby we already loved--some sort of guiding clue to the experience ahead of us. I told them, "I know we're going to love whatever country and people we're sent to. But I just want to know whether to buy pink or blue. Burkas or Cargo shorts. The suspense is killing me."

For now we're just thinking and praying and listening, in case God decides to impart something that we should add to the discussion. We're also watching a lot of reality television to relieve the tension.

{Joy}