I miss the rains down in Africa...

"If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?" 

~ Karen Blixen (Out of Africa)

My parents are moving...again.  They're moving from South Sudan back to Tanzania.  This will most likely be their final move as active missionaries.

Tanzania will forever hold a piece of my heart.  I owe my entire childhood to that amazing and beautiful country.  It's a part of me I need so desperately to share with my own children, as well as with this man that shares my life.

The day my dad told me they were moving we made the decision to make a trip happen.  Not an easy task for a family of four.  (We're giving ourselves a year to plan--and for both kiddos to move out of carseats.)  My own passport just expired, his passport expired last year and the kiddos have yet to be issued their own.  But we're going.  I'm adding a page link following our journey--the prep, the trip, all of it.  Because it's going to be Epic. E-p-i-c.  And since we're of the "go big or go home" mentality, I'm doing my best to work in a Kilimanjaro climb for myself, my mom and my husband.  We'll see how that goes.

Since my heart soars with the mere thought of going home, I wanted to share our plans.