Coming Home Again

When I was a teenager, and would be out at night, I often had to walk long ways to get home.  I remember the comforting feeling the closer I got to home.  Just knowing that I was coming home, out of the cold, away from potential danger, into the warmth, into safety, was comforting. I read somewhere selling and buying a home are in the top ten stressful events of one’s lifetime. I can understand that. I am doing both right now, and I am working at being calm and not getting attached to outcomes.  I know that I am blessed to be even able to have a home, when so many are homeless, and when so many cannot afford a down payment for a home.  I have lived long enough now to experience two housing bubbles and the bursting of those bubbles.  Housing markets can be fickle. One lesson I have learned is to be sure you enjoy living where you live. Houses have a history, and we create history in our houses. But as society has become more transient, as jobs are less secure and as housing markets ebb and flow I have learned not to become too attached to a house, but to the people within it and the memories we make in the house. The house I owned in Florida was the longest I had ever lived in one house, other than my parent’s house which I grew up in.  We experienced my children’s adolescence, and to some degree their independence within its walls. I have very fond memories of this house.  Sitting by the pool, barbequing, (I have to admit it is harder to barbeque tofu and salmon then hamburgers and ribs, but it works and my cholesterol is the better for it.) watching my children and then later my granddaughter play in the pool.  Our house always tended to be the house where all my children’s friends would congregate.  I was happy with this because then I knew where my children were. (my parents never knew where I was.) I wrote many a seminary paper sitting at my kitchen table with earplugs in my ears to help me concentrate with all the activity going on in the house.  As with houses, relationships and Congregations, as the book of Ecclesiastes says “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven”. So it is time to move on from the house in Florida both mentally and physically.   Although I have been here for two years, and completely present to my ministry, I have to admit that it has been a hardship being separated from my family.  I am happy to announce that we received an offer on our Florida house (we still need to close – I will accept prayers and crossed fingers) and my wife Jan (and maybe even my younger son Kyle) will be moving to Iowa this summer.  She will visiting in July as we look for a new home to start making new memories in.  It feels like yet another new beginning for me.  It feels like coming home again.