Saying Goodbye to a Home that Wasn't Supposed to Be Home

It's Saturday morning and I am sitting in my favorite Caribou, professing to do some work but really just trying to center my mind. It has been a full week, and this is my last Saturday as a resident of Minnesota. I am looking forward to the going home element of this move to Colorado, but have to admit that the leaving is much more difficult than I expected. There have been numerous opportunities to reinforce this strange separation anxiety this week.

First, the kids. Cole and Aimee are struggling so much with leaving the friends they have made here. Even now, Cole and Logan are running around St. Anthony somewhere (they said they were going to Walgreen's) and treasuring this last week together before we move. They are one day apart in age and have been like brothers since we first moved to Minnesota four years ago. As much as two 11 year old boys can, they genuinely love each other. You don't get those friends every day nor in every locale.

Aimee is away at her last youth retreat/activity with her Echo group from Woodland Hills Church. She makes friends easily, but I don't think she has ever had a group of friends who feed her soul like the ones she made this year at WHC. I don't know how much she will miss her small group and youth leaders (I think a lot) but I know I am having difficulty with pulling her away from this. She also has a great group of friends at school here, and one of those friends is having serious struggles with Aimee's departure. So much so that her mom is willing to help pay for a plane ticket to bring Aimee back for a week later this summer. I know Aimee and I have no doubts that she will have a whole crew of friends pretty quickly after school starts this Fall, but her story illustrates to me how many tentacles these decisions we make as parents end up having. And while I really hope to spend the rest of my life in Colorado, the timing is not as ideal as it seemed eight weeks ago.

Emilee, on the other hand, will stay and make her way in life in Minnesota. While this is probably the right thing for her, the idea of leaving her behind is difficult for us and for her. She is the girl who was going to be independent, out on her own, out of our house pretty much from the time she was about 12 years old. Now that it is reality though, it is a lot tougher than expected. My girl, the one who is wired so much like me that it is almost frightening, will no longer be within earshot. She has her own place, her own job, her own friends, her own path, her own life. I will miss her like I would miss my heart if it were removed. I am sure she has made a good decision and I support her and am proud of her. Still does not make it easy to leave. I know you read this from time to time Em, and I don't want you to feel sad or guilty when you do. I want you to know that my heart aches, but it is the ache of every father whose children have to grow up and go their own way. It is the right thing, but it is not an easy thing.

As for me, this place and this season of life have kind of grown on me. I love the Twin Cities. What other metro area has the kind of natural beauty within the city limits that Minneapolis and Saint Paul do? Lakes, trees, a mildly rolling terrain: you don't have to go away to live in wonder. Add to that an amazing diversity of people from Asia, Africa, and yes, even Europe, and it is quite simply an incredible place to live. Part of the beauty of the Twin Cities chapter of my life has been Woodland Hills Church. I love the people, I love the openness to new and different, I love the diversity, I love being a part of the Woodland Hills family. I will miss it and not entirely sure I can ever find a place like it, which makes it really tough to leave.

I will miss people. My old friends (Russ, Ken) and my once-in-a-while friends (Greg, Efrem, Marque), my cohort friends (Jenny, Chibs, Andrea, Erin, Deb) and my hang out when we can friends (Jeremy, Derek, Tahna). I will miss Jason and Lisa and those three beautiful kids. I would love to be closer to watch Ana grow up and become president of this or some other country (it is inevitable, I think...even if we have to change the Constitution). I will desperately miss the two friends who have walked with me through this rough stretch of life, Brent and Todd. Brent, if you could know how much your calls and encouragement saved my life when this fight with depression and anxiety began, you might be surprised to know that you are a superhero. And Todd, it seems like we were just getting started. I love your knowledge and your incredibly twisted sense of humor. I love your family and the times we have spent together. I love that we can both be about 13 years old together for significant stretches of time and it is perfectly cool. I am so happy for your new job adventure. I just wish it were in Colorado.

I will deeply miss Leta, my advisor and much more. She has loved on me through the frustration of not being able to write. She hasn't yet killed me, but she might before we are done! And I will miss Phil. My friend, you have become the human face of a loving heavenly Father to me. I don't know if I can fully explain it, so I will just let it stand alone. You are grace personified. Not perfection or deification, just good, broken grace. Thanks for walking the journey with me.

The capper to all this reminiscing is the picture that remains from our block. Our neighbors--next door and across the street--are wonderful Tibetan people. On Thursday night, before Carol was leaving on Friday, about 10:30 the doorbell rang. It was the younger woman and her mother dropping in to say goodbye to Carol. About twenty minutes later, the bell rang again. It was the grandmother--the one who doesn't speak English but has been one of the kindest and friendliest neighbors you could ever hope to have--and "big Tenzen" (a lot of Tenzens, this is the one who graduated 8th grade with Aimee last week) coming over to say goodbye to my wife. This little lady with the warm smile brought a scarf/shawl over and draped it around Carol's neck and over her shoulders and through her grandson told us it was a Tibetan tradition that means "good luck." She has one like it and will think of Carol when she wears it. It was a gift of love and affection, one that came with and produced tears. It is so tough to leave these wonderful neighbors. The grandmother was holding Carol's hand the other day and saying "sorry" over and over, letting us know that she was sad we were leaving. Incredible. Then she and Tenzen stood in the front yard Friday morning, waving until we disappeared down the street on our way to the airport. More tears. In fact, kind of like the tears that keep coming to my eyes as I write this. I love these dear friends and will miss them more than they can possibly know.

This is long, too long for blogging, but it needed to be written. Hope you can indulge me a little as this parting is very sweet sorrow. Next Saturday morning, I will be headed from Holly to Colorado Springs to show Emilee and Jared the sights before taking them to Denver and the airport so they can get home for Father's Day (the first time that getting home doesn't mean returning to me). It will be good, eventually. It will not be easy.

Thanks God for Minnesota. I will miss this place.

Feeling Cantankerous

I have been getting requests on Facebook to join the group, "Tell Obama We're Still a Christian Nation." So, of course, to get people really annoyed, I made my status something snarky like "Joe wonders what makes a nation Christian?" Which led to some responses, some sincere and others equally snarky. I especially like the snarky ones.

Seriously though, when was this or any other nation genuinely Christian? As I stated on Facebook, nation building is about gaining power over people in this world. Living the Kingdom of God, on the other hand, is about submitting ourselves to others in the name of Jesus, living a life of grace and peace and laying down our rights in order to demonstrate the genuine love of God in daily living. Tell me then, what nation does that? What nation has ever done that? Really?

Was it the marauding armies of "Christians" who wantonly slaughtered Muslims behind the banner of the cross...you know, the cross where Jesus willingly sacrificed himself? Was it the European settlers who took advantage of their superior fire power to deceive and destroy the inhabitants they found when they landed on this continent? Was it the "founding fathers" who wrote about freedom and liberty while enslaving countless Africans for their own economic benefit, deeming them (by law) as less than fully human, enforcing breeding and separation in order to make sure those "family values" we speak so highly of were never allowed to take root among the black slaves they claimed to own? Was it the preachers in this country who justified slavery, segregation, war and brute force when it was expedient for their own success and security? Is it the United States where millions of innocent unborn are slaughtered in the womb, many for nothing more than the sake of convenience? Or is it the other side of the argument where those who "speak for life" end up murdering to make their point? Is it the churched ones who reacted to the September 11th brutality by threatening and pouring venom on anyone who so much as looked like a Muslim? The churches who sent their young men and women out to "kill some Arabs?" Is it in the evangelical lifestyle of excess and affluence, taking mission trips to other parts of the world while walking blindly past the homeless guy on the corner? Is it in the multimillion dollar church edifices that house a weekly pep rally and do little to positively touch the lives of those who live in their shadows?

(One quick note: I am not able to answer the really tough questions about war and that is not the purpose of this post. Nations do war. The problem that I see is Christians who get excited about killing anyone, including an enemy. This does not seem to be the example of the Jesus after whom we claim to be named.)

I plead guilty to living the lie for too many years. Americanism is not "Christian," any more than is allegiance to any other nation, political structure or power. But I'm trying to unlearn the things that kept me from seeing the true Jesus. You know the one: the guy who lived a life of healing and service, who was a political separatist while working to bring life and hope to those who were victims of the political structures of nations and of religion. So forgive me if I don't get too riled up over President Obama, pastor gold watch, or any of the others who seek power here. I am trying to commit myself to powerlessness as humanity sees it so I can live a life pleasing to the God who provides legitimate power.

And whether I like the president's politics or the doctor's ethics, I pledge to continue practicing seeing the unsurpassable worth of each person I encounter in this world.