When we first started planning our 3-month European worldschooling adventure, I thought of the many things that could go wrong, and how I would resolve them. After anticipating as many scenarios as possible, I made a packing list that would help me combat nearly everything and brought emergency cash to buy whatever was needed to fill the gap. In all of this planning and maneuvering, I somehow missed the possibility of a pandemic.

Yes, the global spread of a new disease and its impact on the entire world slipped past me.

This is a story of faith. As I’ve spent the past few days watching experiencing our entire trip circle the drain, I’ve been reminded of an Emily Dickinson poem my kids recited one term because our adventure has certainly “ravelled out of reach, like balls upon the floor.”

This verse also kept popping into my head: A man’s heart deviseth his way, But the LORD directeth his steps (Proverbs 16:9). When I started to dig, I came to this Bible commentary:

“A man’s heart deviseth his way — Considers and proposes to himself what he will do; designs an end, and contrives by what means he may attain it; but the Lord directeth his steps — Ruleth and disposeth all his intentions and actions as he pleases, determining what the event shall be, and ordering his motions, perhaps, to such an issue as never came into his thoughts.“

Rev. Joseph Benson, 1857 (emphasis mine)

An issue as never came into my thoughts. This is it. This is exactly what happened, and it explains why I’ve felt devastated about the unraveling of our dream trip. I’m having a hard time getting over all that’s gone wrong since we left home 15 days ago because, for a brief moment, it felt like I was in control. I thought of everything. I even packed portable smoke and carbon monoxide alarms with plenty of extra batteries!

And when something I couldn’t control or handle came along, I felt lost.

This is a story of friendship. While sitting in my Airbnb in Greece feeling all of the emotions, I wanted to be left alone. I wanted the kids to give me a moment, so I unlocked the ipads. I didn’t want to hear from friends and family, so I turned off my ringer. My disappointment was raw, and I couldn’t pretend that the hearbreak wasn’t there. I vacillated between sadness (that I wouldn’t be able to give my children the experience I’d promised), disappointment (that the many hours spent planning and dreaming were wasted), and anger (that we were set to lose so much money on things and places we never touched or saw).

But my people back home just would…not…stop. These ladies are a persistent bunch, I tell you. The text messages kept pouring in, Facebook messenger was out of control, and a few of the real crazies hunted me down on WhatsApp. Everyone wanted to know if I was okay, how things were going, what I needed, how they could help, and on and on. And when I say that they wouldn’t stop, I really mean it. They would not.

And I’m so glad they didn’t.

Those who know me best know that I tend to isolate when I’m overwhelmed. Yes, that means that I move away from people when I need help the most. Makes perfect sense, right? Those who didn’t know must have been given a divine urge to bug the heck out of me anyway.

Even though my ringer was off, I was using my phone to read about what was happening in the cities we were set to visit because the wi-fi here is very slow and…ahem…there were already four ipads streaming on it. Eventually, I had to put the phone down and try to read a book because the notifications were going bonkers. And when I couldn’t concentrate on the book I was pretending to read, I turned back to the phone and began to go through the messages.

These ladies had unknowingly knit together a support system of personal words, prayers, verses, and encouragement that worked together to pull me out of my funk and point me back to the One who has the whole world in His hands. Some were funny notes that made me laugh despite myself. Others were serious notes of warning and encouragement for us to come home. While still others were prayers calling on the Lord to help move me beyond the sadness to a place of peace. And finally, there were simple brief check-ins inquiring about our well-being. I needed every one of those.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13 (Sent by a friend at the end of her text)

Each note played a different role, and although I’ve shed more than a few tears, as I write this now, I can say that I’m at peace with the fact that this trip is over and we’re coming home two and a half months early.

So what happened?

Well, obviously, COVID-19 derailed our trip, but interestingly, fear of catching the coronavirus was just one of the issues playing into our decision to go home. I definitely do not want to get sick, and I especially don’t want my children to be sick. I didn’t feel panicked about the possibility because it seems like we are all in the category of people who would survive the illness, but getting sick away from home was a real concern. Other issues:

• We are outsiders here. Obvious foreigners. And in the midst of panic, many people are resorting to the temptation of rejecting others in favor of the false security of being with their own kind. When we walk onto the subway or into certain stores, I see looks of disgust. Some people even make faces or pull their shirts up over their noses and faces when we walk by or sit down, as if that would help if we did have the virus. My kids don’t notice (This is the ONE time I’ve been thankful for their obliviousness to social cues!), but I do. We aren’t wanted here, and I’m ready to move on.
• We were set to fly to Madrid, Spain in two days, and I awoke to headlines like “It’s Like a Meteorite Has Fallen On Us: Madrid Empties as Coronavirus Spreads” and “Spain Becomes Epicenter of Coronavirus After a Faltering Response.” I saw pictures of bare grocery shelves and read that people are banned from leaving home except for buying essential supplies and medicines, or for work. The thought of being stuck in an unfamiliar place with no access to basic necessities was not appealing. There is no deep freezer in the basement full of food. The Airbnb fridge is not stocked. We have no friends or contacts there. Help is not coming. I also did not want to get quarantined there.
• We’d already re-routed our trip around Rome, and I wasn’t stepping foot into Madrid given all that I’d read, so we needed to re-route around yet another city. We couldn’t just skip Madrid and move to our next spot though because after a short detour, we were scheduled to be back in Spain – Valencia this time – which was our original replacement for Italy.
• I then thought, “We could just skip all of these stops and fly to Paris early. We saved that city for last because it’s the one the kids were most looking forward to. We’ll fly in for a few days, see the things we wanted to see most, and try to change the dates of our original tickets to fly back to the U.S. early from there.” And then I woke up to reports that the Louvre is closed. The Palace of Versailles is closed. The Eiffel Tower is closed. Well then.
• As I grasped at straws, the last possibility was London. Things are still operating there, and friends on the ground tell me that major sites and commercial spaces are open for business. But that could change in a few hours. Everything everywhere is closed or will be by the time I finish writing this.
• Every time we remove or revise a leg of our trip, it requires us to scramble for new accommodations and five (FIVE!) new flights or train tickets while leaving a trail of lost money in our wake. Going into this trip, we had 25 total one-way plane tickets across 5 airlines. We expect to get our money back for some of them, but as of today, we are only being offered credit for many of them – not refunds. Some of these carriers don’t fly in the U.S, so credit doesn’t help us one bit as we won’t be able to just recreate this trip later.

We’ve been playing an expensive and exhausting game of Dodge-the-Coronavirus, and we’re losing.

It’s just time to go home.

Our return flight to the U.S. leaves tomorrow just got canceled, so we’ll be in Europe at least another day. There are more coronavirus cases at home than where we’ve been, but we’ll happily self-isolate for two weeks in order to bring peace of mind to our friends and neighbors. This will also give me time to recover from the stress, relax with my family, and adjust our plans – plans that I’ve learned to hold ever-so-loosely. I’m still sad but also hopeful that our spring will be full of unexpected joys. I’m thankful for the fun times we had in Greece and the special moments that are sure to come in the days ahead.