That Tender Mercy is ONLY for Missionaries

I've moved a lot in my life. Not because my dad had some crazy job and uprooted the entire family every year to go pursue other cool things. But because I apparently turned 18, and this entirely dormant gene kicked into action turning me into a Nomad. In the past six years, I have moved five times. (That is counting going away to college in Aug and returning in April as one... so if you wanted to, you could say I have moved 10 times.... Yeah... let's say that, that makes my story sound so much better) I mean have moved 10 times!

During the middle of all of these moves, I decided to serve a mission. I packed my two largest suitcases, weighed them carefully (they were 49.9 lbs and 50.1 lbs respectively) and went to serve the people of New York. Then on the mission I moved another 4 and a half times. Just trust me on the half... that's another story. Once in NY, I didn't have to worry about keeping myself to 2 suitcases. I had a lot of stuff. But as long as my companion and I could fit it in our car on transfer day, I was allowed to... spread my wings a little bit. And spread I did. I've never been a light packer. It's like I have this crazy fear that the world will come to an end if I don't have my own little mini iron, a stapler, and some shout wipes when I go ... Next door to baby sit. Ok, it's not that bad.

I just realized, this is a lot of build up for a very simple purpose. Maybe I'm making up for lack of posts? Let's go with that idea.

Every time I moved on my mission, I would arrive at my destination and have everything I packed. I could find it all, I would unpack it, and life was great. I didn't realize this, because I just didn't stress about it. My stuff was always there.

BUT IN THE REAL WORLD... I lose EVERYTHING! It doesn't seem to matter what I do. I unpack and half of my life is gone. And it's not all just simple, $2 replace me items. I just don't understand. It's like I have some secret goblin who eats a little bit of everything that rides with me in my car. As I'm driving down the road, excited/nervous to start a new part of my life, he's just sitting back there eating to his heart's content. I can just hear him, with his little menacing giggle "Heh, heh, heh... she only thought she wanted these shoes... and her remote for her TV... and her mouse for her laptop... and her photo album... yeah!" *munch* *munch* *munch*

Apparently, all mission cars are equipped with anti-munchy-goblin repellent. This is a tender mercy of the Lord that I was so grateful on my mission. But apparently it is ONLY reserved for missionaries.

"I will eat all of your cool stuff!"