The Checklist.

Five in the morning and I'm still at work, whittling away at what's left of my Africa preparations.

I'm looking at my checklist on AIMOutbound -- a Web site for departing missionaries -- and there sure are a lot of green checks, meaning I've got that certain thing done, but there are still quite a few left unchecked. Things on tap for this week: Getting police background clearance (gee, I hope that goes OK), meeting with a lawyer to figure up my will (weird) and applying for an international drivers' license. Then it's just going over baggage regulations and commissioning service stuff... and I'm done with my checklist.

I only wish that were the extent of what I have to do. I'm realizing there's a lot to shutting down my life in America -- or at least putting it in a nice holding patern -- and starting things up in the bush of Africa. There's a bunch to do with medical stuff (eyes, ears, teeth, everything), bank accounts and communication. And then there's this tiny thing of packing up all my belongings at my parents' house. They've informed me they'll have built a new house by the time I get back, so I have to have everything packed for the move. I'm trying desperately not to get overwhelmed, but it's hard, all things considered (especially the hour at which I'm writing this post).

My mom pulled a nice one at work this week. When I agreed to move home and help her out at work, one of the stipulations was that I'd be able to quit work well before I left for Africa. We've been talking for a while about how I'd be off the sports desk by the end of May. I kept talking about it, kept asking her if she was moving forward on getting a replacement. Well, this week I was talking with her and Lonny, the managing editor, and it turns out Lonny knows nothing of this and my mom has told him I can work right on through July. (I leave June 28th, which makes this idea very curious.) I'm really not keen on the idea of working right up to the day I get on the plane for Africa, but that's the way she'll have it. It's that, or I'm forced out of the house. A lovely ultimatum. She's doing this -- admittedly -- because she doesn't want me to go to Africa. She refuses to acknowledge it's going to happen, no matter what day I stop working at The Times. It's so hard to "leave well" in the face of her absolute denial. Oh, that she would just understand...

I don't know why I'm so surprised by all this. Jesus was very plain in his promise of trials and being forced to leave our own mothers and fathers to follow after him. Blah.

Oh, geez, the morning people are coming into the office. I need to get out of here.