There was a time I would have given my left pinkie to leave this place. Eight years later, all fingers intact, and our departure date is just a few squares away on the calendar. Our family will leave one ministry location for another. My kids have constructed a paper chain countdown, and as it shortens, the list of things I’ll miss lengthens. I’m so ready, and at the same time, I’m attached to this place with a thousand strings.  Mountains tower above our valley of rice paddies and ornery goats like a boundary line. I used to feel boxed in, stuck in an antiquated village of strangers. Now, I stare…