It’s been about two weeks since we arrived in Italy. On paper, it sounded like an exciting season — a six-month stay abroad, a new environment, a slower rhythm. But in reality, it’s been harder than I imagined.
With three kids aged two, four, and six, and just the two of us figuring things out in a foreign land, every day has been an exercise in patience, learning, and grace. The kids' stay will be staggered after the first two weeks due to visa requirements, but it's been challenging nonetheless. Thankfully, Bel's sister joined us after the first week, giving us much-needed respite.
The Packing I Never Understood
Before we left Singapore, I remember Bel spending countless hours packing. To me, it seemed excessive. Six large luggages for a family of five? I thought we were simply going on an extended holiday — surely, we could get whatever we needed there.
But I was wrong.
Each item she packed had a reason — the children’s favorite toys that brought them comfort in a new environment, the winter coats that have already proven essential, even the rice cooker that has become our kitchen’s heartbeat.
And yet, even with all her foresight, we still found ourselves short of small but important things — a kettle, household supplies that cost much more here than we expected. Looking back, I realize now that her “over-packing” wasn’t over-packing at all. It was care, foresight, and love made visible.
Feeding Five in a Land of Pizza and Pasta
We came to the land of great food, but as we soon found out, “great” doesn’t always mean “ideal for young kids.” Most restaurants serve the same rotation — tortellini, pizza, pasta. Delicious, yes, but not balanced.
If it were just me, I would’ve survived happily on pizza and pasta every day. But Bel saw what I didn’t — the kids needed vegetables, fish and something homecooked.
So she started cooking: roast chicken and vegetables, soups, porridge for the little ones. She somehow managed to transform a small kitchen into a place of warmth and nourishment. I began to realize that these quiet, unseen acts of service were what held our family together in this transition.
The Mental Load I Missed
Then there’s the invisible part — the daily planning around the children’s needs. Nap schedules, sleep quality, moods, and mealtime rhythms. Every outing required layers of thought I hadn’t considered.
Bel wasn’t just managing logistics; she was managing the emotional climate of our home.
There were moments of tension — times when I tried to offer solutions when she really just needed understanding. Over time, I’ve learned that she doesn’t always need me to fix things. She needs me to stand beside her, to lighten her load in small but tangible ways — washing dishes, changing diapers, playing with the kids so she can breathe.
These are simple things, but in the middle of chaos, they are love made practical.
Seeing God’s Hand in Our Weakness
Through all of this, I’ve come to see that the real work happening isn’t just logistical — it’s spiritual. God is teaching us both humility and grace.
There were moments we felt stretched, tired, and even misunderstood. But through it all, God reminded us that marriage and family aren’t sustained by competence or fairness, but by grace. Grace that humbles me to serve without being asked. Grace that helps me see Bel not as someone managing tasks, but as someone carrying a sacred calling.
The gospel reshaped how I viewed this season. It showed me that love isn’t measured by grand gestures, but by the willingness to lay down comfort for another — just as Christ did for us.
“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.”
— Philippians 2:3
These two weeks have been tiring, yes, but they’ve also been refining. And maybe that’s exactly what God intended — that in learning to see the unseen labor of love, I might better understand the grace that sustains it.