​Hours after our first son was born, the pediatrician after glancing at the name Joshua Champ Rhodes on his chart, joked: “Is that a family name, or is this going to be some great kid?” Our son’s middle name was meant to honor Joe’s grandfather, while we planned to call him Joshua, based on hours of discussion and pouring over birth name books. But when we brought our five-pound bundle of energy back to the small village where we lived as missionaries, the Eskimos insisted on calling him Champ and added their own middle name—Boyukbuk, loosely translated as little big smoke. The name Champ has stuck ever since, and to answer that doctor’s question, yes, he was a great kid and has become an even more amazing adult. 

​This week Joe and I are packing suitcases for a trip around the world to visit the amazing people we’ve been blessed to work with for the past five years. Right now, it feels like the entire house is in disarray as we try to figure out how to cram everything we need for a month into two suitcases. I have visions of bouncing up and down on top of mine to get it closed, only to hear that it is over the weight limit when I check in. Surrounded by irritated travelers looking at their watches, I throw things out helter-skelter, no time for rhyme or reason. (This may or may not have happened to me a time or two in the past).

That suitcase seems an apt metaphor for the way many of us feel about life today. Hemmed in on every side, pressured by things that must be done and decisions that can’t wait, we end up tossing things out helter skelter, oblivious to what we’re losing in the process. Driven by the tyranny of the urgent, we fall into bed at night exhausted, only to wake up with dread that we have to do it all over again. 
For the full devotional, click on Week Four below. (Or if you're new here, begin with Week One!)