I pushed the clothes and diapers deep into my backpack, my nervousness pushing its way into my eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” Brad asked me as I packed for my three-day trip with the kids to a small village interior.
Brad would be flying us and the other MAF family into Lebusan, in Borneo’s mountainous, remote, rain forest. Then he’d fly his MAF Caravan back out again to finish his schedule, then return home to work on a major project for his master’s degree.
The kids and I would continue in a truck on a rocky, unpaved road through the mountains to the village of Mahak Baru. There, the other MAF wife, Marieke and I would talk to teenagers and young moms in a series of seminars throughout the three days.
The brave, adventurous soul in me wanted to do this. I knew the kids would have fun. I knew the ministry was worthwhile. I knew the people would be amazing.
But the mom in me, the one who would have a 50-50 chance of being vomited on by my kids on the airplane ride, wasn’t so sure. How well would the kids sleep with no fans in a wooden house, mosquitos buzzing in our ears? Would they get sick? Would they scream through their cold-water bucket baths?
Would they behave…and if they didn’t, what would the others think, when we’d come there to share about childcare and mothering? Would I even remember the Indonesian words for our presentations?
The story. Remember the story. That’s what I told myself as I marked things off the list, trying to fit them all into my backpack.
To find out what happened, come back in a couple of days to hear the rest of the story.