Last week our friends, the Steenpkamps, had a garage sale. They are moving to South Africa next month, so it’s time to get rid of things. Lots of things.

Coffee cups, couches, crib

Tissue paper, toilet plunger, TV

Baby toys, baby books, baby bottles

Shoes, shirts, sweaters

Grill, grater, golf clubs

Lawn chairs, lawn mower, lamps

Pots, pans and a printer.

My job was to take care of their baby, and occasionally take cash from a buyer with arms full of new treasures. Working at their garage sale reminded me of what it takes to make an international move.

The external logistics are countless. How do we ship it? Where do we store it? When do we pack it? Who will buy it? When do we put up the house for sale? What about the car?

The internal heart work is endless. God works on the heart when a person looks at things differently because of logistics and their calling.  It’s like a deep massage that slowly loosens the grip that our things have over us. For most of us, the ample closet space and overstuffed garages insulate us from this process. 

But an international move forces missionary families to place a value on every single thing they own.  They can’t just sweep items from the clutter drawer into a box that will ship to their new home. (If you are like me, your clutter would require more than one box.) Overseas shipping is too expensive.

So the process begins. For everything they own, they have to answer these questions:

• Do I take it with me?
• Do I get rid of it? Sell it, or give it away?
• Do I store it?

From the stapler to sandals, the sweater, the iron skillet, the coffee table and the bed. Everything has to fit in a category—take it, get rid of it, or store it.

It seems like a simple process–at first. I remember there were a few things that I was happy to give away when we moved to Venezuela—the ugly couch was the first to go. I knew that I wanted to store the table that Gary’s father had made for us. I definitely wanted to take our pots and pans—yes, food is a priority.

But then it gets complicated. What about the antique dresser we bought when we got married? The cake platters given to us? Gary’s veterinarian books?  My favorite coat? Placing value became complicated.

Sentimental value became entangled with monetary value and the practical value of usefulness and logistics. Sometimes sentimental won, other times practical won. And sometimes things got lost in the shuffle—like the bedspread that Gary’s Grannie crocheted for us.

The process was physically tiring and left my heart a little tender. But it was also a freeing process. It gave me different lenses to see the value of everything that surrounded me. The international move taught me to be less attached to things and more attached to what mattered—God’s kingdom work, family, and the relationships we were building. 

So last Saturday was the Steenkamps’ turn to sell everything. As I played with baby Zoe I prayed for their process—the external logistics and the internal work of the heart.

I watched Ashley explain to a buyer what was special about the symbol on the front of a shirt she was selling—she got it on her first mission trip. Casper told a neighbor about the cup his sister gave him for his birthday. My son bought the couch that their parents gave them when they married. Lots of stories accompanied the things they sold. But that’s ok, because now Casper and Ashley can begin a new chapter of their story in South Africa.

The logistical work is almost complete.

The internal work, the work of the heart, that’s endless.

Join with me in prayer for the South Africa Team, the Steenkamps and Jennifer Lewis, as they prepare to move in February.

“Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Luke 12:33-34