Home Town

We spent our family vacation hiding out on the beach in my home town last week. It's a place of strong memories and great comfort that can only be found in the home of your childhood. This doesn't decrease the love we have for where we currently live, but there is something about a place so firmly cemented in my mind and spirit.

The calming presence of the salt air, the heat of the sun (even under our umbrella), and the sound of waves crashing on the shore quickly bring to mind the life we shared there. They bring back vivid recollections of my time at Mainland High School, our children's early childhood years, walks on the
beach at night, buying our first home, my call into the ministry, and so many more. All of those things are part of the beginning of who we are now and how our family has grown together. Even when we return to our present home we bring part of this back with us and look forward to the next time we can visit. It's a pleasant trip of nostalgia which I never tire of making.

The truth is that every now and then we all need to go back home. It's a place which reminds us of where we began and how we've become who we are today.

Good and Tired

I am very tired this week and I know our mission team from last week shares in that feeling. It's always an adjustment to return to life at home after a week of life on a mission trip. The time zone difference (three hours from Arizona to Georgia) is always difficult to overcome on top of the exhaustion from the trip itself. The impact of the mission field is still heavy on all of our minds and hearts as we unpack our experiences as well. It's a good sense of tired from what we have accomplished and also a spiritual weariness from having exerted so much energy in striving to have a positive impact. There is a certain speed to things on mission trips that keeps you moving beyond the point of exhaustion and fuels you for more than you think you are capable of.

Coming home brings all of this to a halt and you suddenly realize exactly how tired you are. Nerves that were constantly on alert have depleted energy stores and leave you feeling like butter spread over too much bread.* You yearn for the togetherness of the team and the focused energy of your mission and yet relish the comforts of home and the chance to let down your guard. Being home requires a recalibration of body and soul as we return to a more familiar pace of life. The immediate goal is rest and recovery and then to make sure the lessons from the trip are firmly implanted as we move forward.

Split In Two

I have just returned from my 12th year of leading mission trips to the Apache reservation in Arizona (18 total trips over those years) and still miss it. There is always a difficulty in readjusting to the regular pace of life. My heart is always so full after a week of unique experiences, bonding with teammates, seeing victories up close, and feeling heartache over cultural circumstances. It's not something that can be set behind you quickly or relegated to memory without some time to consider the full impact of the trip. Arizona and the wonderful people there are a part of my family and I always greatly anticipate the next time I get to return.

My passion for Arizona does not soften my passion for Milledgeville however. God gently reminds me of the call to be part of sharing the Gospel here in our community as well. In fact, many times in Arizona our team would recognize the parallels between what we saw out west and our own town back east. We were all in agreement that our mission with our Apache friends & missionaries was powerful, but that our greatest call was to infect our home with the same passionate enthusiasm. There is a sense of urgency to reach people as we recognize that our mission field is all around us.

I am firmly rooted here and excited about the challenges God has in front of us to reach our community. I don't think that it's a bad thing that part of my heart is also in small neighborhoods, after school programs, missions, and a beautifully dark reservation either. It helps keep me focused spiritually and physically.

Contrary to popular belief, it is possible to be in two places at once.

Home Sweet Home

My wife and I have a deep love for Arizona. We have served out there on mission trips for over ten years and have developed friendships that mean a great deal to us. We also have a great passion for that area of the country and the vacation times we have been able to share. There is always an eager sense of longing as we get closer to our next trip and a feeling of sorrow when we leave. Each trip is different and special in its own way and is a part of our family history.

As much as we enjoy the west however, it isn't home. While we miss Arizona we are also excited to be back where God has called us. We are honored to be part of a thriving church and community while sharing it with our beautiful family. Arizona is part of who we are, but we are delighted to be planted where we are. It's a wonderful blessing to have a place we love to visit and yet this place we get call home. I consider myself a fortunate man to be able to share two wonderful places.

My Higher Calling

There is a part of my personality that thrives on making a difference in others. It's the piece of me that gives me vision for reaching people and innovative ideas for ways to make that happen. This is where I draw my inner strength and connectivity that allows me to be part of mission trips, leadership events, middle school camp, and other large events. Even with the amount of work that goes into planning and implementation I find myself energized when I am part of these opportunities.

As much as I come alive during these times of connectivity and influence, I know that I need to find time to counterbalance this output with downtime as well. It's not just about the need for rest and rejuvenation although that is extremely vital after busy weeks. It's the fact that I draw complete satisfaction by being with the people that need me the most-my family. It's in the peace of my own home that I can be made whole through the love of my family, the affection that we share, and the perfection of my calling as husband and father.

I won't give up the part of my calling to reach other people, but I will make sure to place my highest priority at home where it belongs.

Settling In

We have just completed our fourth move in the last five years. It reflects our decision to rent a home instead of buying one (which is a topic for another blog post.) We have become experts at the science of the move and know what works best for us in terms of getting things done quickly. We painted the house last week, but began the move in earnest yesterday and finished this afternoon with the last box being unpacked. We are blessed with friends that are generous in spirit (and muscle) and our entire family worked hard to make this place right.

It's important for us to quickly set up our home for our family's comfort. The process of moving tends to disrupt the patterns we are accustomed to and we are looking for a quick homeostatic return to normalcy. It's not just about physical convenience either. It's about our home being a place for new memories to be made and a desire for things to make sense. It's about carving out our new space and looking forward to the new phase of life ahead of us. As much as I enjoy change (contrary to what some might believe) I am looking forward to the stability of this next season and the life we will continue to build here together. Now that we are (mostly) settled we can move ahead together as we grow.

Dinner Time

The pace and tension of ministry can often be high. There are difficult decisions to make, crises to respond to, present situations to manage, and the future to prepare for. It can honestly leave you quite exhausted at the end of the day--especially when you look ahead to a very full schedule.

I find a great deal of respite in the simple, yet joyful time spent around the family dinner table. My wife is an excellent cook and lovingly prepares delicious meals for us, but that is not the biggest attraction. It is the laughter of three teenage girls as they share goofy stories and tales of a day spent together. It's the knowing glances across the table with my wife as we share inside jokes and insight. It's the gift of speaking truth into the lives of our three lovelies as we prepare them for their future. I place a high value on these times together and appreciate the fact that they won't last forever. They are good for my soul and I hope they are building a foundation in our girls that carries into their adulthood.

Our House

We are moving into a new house in Milledgeville this coming Wednesday. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that we are leaving the best house we have ever lived in either. I will most certainly miss the

views of our water and the incredible sunrises and sunsets we have been privy to this past year and half. Every day that I looked out our windows I reminded myself that it was only for a season and that we were going to enjoy this blessing (and ridiculously kind generosity of friends) as long as it lasted.

We sat outside on our deck tonight for our last family dinner. Our girls faces were sun-kissed as they lounged in chairs and told a succession of stories. We pet our dog and laughed at his idiosyncrasies and watched boats & wave runners go by. I played my guitar and we sang as we continually interrupted songs with more stories. It only reinforced in me what is most important--our family being together. Each of our homes has a set of memories and is a part of our life together. I look back on each one very fondly and know that this next great house (with fantastic landlords again!) will be a key part in the tale of our lives together. It reminds me that I am blessed man indeed.