Shad and Sarah Deal Making Him known in Indonesia 
Last week, we packed up our belongings and moved from our house to another house a few kilometers away. Sounds simple, right? Rent a U-Haul, send out some “change of address” cards, take a few days off work to move and settle into your new place, and memorize your new address and phone number. As you may have guessed, this was not our experience!!
Just as our western culture has certain norms involved with moving such as U-hauls and post office “change of address” forms, Indonesians have their own expectations involving moving. In the neighborhood we’ve called home for the last 20 months, we have found that neighbors share more than just a zip code. As we have shared in previous updates, they have shared their lives with us and, in a sense, allowed us to be a part of their extended family. We have learned from experience that when a family moves from a place where they have build relationships like that, it is good for them to show their gratitude by throwing a pesta perpisahan, literally a separating party. In addition to showing gratitude for all the neighbors have meant to us, the party was also a chance to ask forgiveness for any offense we’d caused, allowing us to leave the neighborhood with a “clean slate,” so to speak.
Our preparations began weeks before as we typed up and printed our own invitations (in Indonesian, of course!), asked permission from and discussed details with two neighborhood leaders, ordered chicken, rice, snack boxes, and bottled tea for 125 people, worked out a schedule for the evening, grilled our Indonesian friends for advice and direction for the party, asked various neighbors to give a speech or say a prayer, and prepared our own speeches to give. There were many decisions to make as well, such as whether or not to set up a tent (we did), whether to use chairs or mats on the floor (we did both), and what time to start (we chose a bad time—when half the neighborhood was attending their place of worship…).
After much planning and many days and nights spent stressing over whether or not the party would be a success, neighbors began to gather to help deliver and set up the tent, chairs, mats, lights, and sound system. 
The chicken, snacks, and tea were delivered in plenty of time, and before we knew it, guests began to arrive. Although still a bit apprehensive about throwing a party of this magnitude in a still-quite-foreign culture, we confidently began shaking hands with everyone as they arrived. Neighbors and friends worked frantically behind the scenes, keeping Braden and the other kids under control and making sure all the guests had a place to sit, a snack box, and a bottle of tea. Soon it was time to begin, and we were up in front of this crowd of over 100 people, giving our faultering speeches in Indonesian. 
But as we looked out over the crowd and saw those familiar faces that had greeted us, taught us, and embraced us during these last 20 months, we remembered that it wasn’t our language ability that made the difference to them. Sharing our lives with them day after day, laughing and helping and drinking coffee with them—those are the things that our relationships were built on.
After a few prayers and a few more speeches, the chicken was handed out and people began to pour out of our little yard. Within minutes, the chairs were stacked, mats were rolled up, and trash was gathered, giving our house some semblance of order again. We went to bed exhausted, but thankful not only that the party went well, but that we had a reason to have a party in the first place. We will miss our old neighborhood, and we are truly grateful for the opportunities God gave us to plant and water seeds in the lives of our friends there. Our prayer is that we can continue to be light there, as well as here in our new neighborhood.
Now if only we could get the post office to order some of those handy “change of address” forms…
