A blast from the past

Not that I feel blogging is the best place to be transparent, but I ran across something I wrote almost two years ago and I could hardly believe it came from me. We are always on a road of trusting God and not knowing what's next...only God knows. I guess this post is proof that sometimes I do get introspective and a little reflective instead of just a ball of metaphors.

Thanksgiving 2006
This Road

Driving today I found myself reflecting on where I was a year ago Thanksgiving Day and emotions still flood my heart as I type. A year ago on Thanksgiving I took a long run in the morning because I was training for a half marathon with my then roommate Jenni. After a difficult living situation, I was incredibly blessed by my new roommates, Marsha and Jenni, and was about to discover just how blessed I was going to be. It was about 65 degrees and a sunny morning, rare in southern California. I was desperately trying to hold together a youth ministry full of beautiful young people, but had no idea how to let go of the fraying ends of my own limitations while swimming upstream against currents of responsibility and the heartache of church politics and egotistical leadership. After my run I headed over to the Vannoy’s, my adopted family. They had invited me to share Thanksgiving dinner with them. I semi-grudgingly agreed and cried as I spoke via cell phone with my family on the drive over to the Vannoy's. The sounds of my family enjoying a family dinner were especially painful because my absence didn’t change the sounds of laughter and love around the table.

Today I am home. I miss the friendships that changed my soul and made me a better person. I long for the students who believed in me and made me cling that much harder to the God who put me in their lives. I miss early morning surf sessions, coffees, dance parties, bible studies on the beach, laughter, tears, life’s loves shared with the ones who were rooting so intensely for me to make it. I feel some days like a part of me got left behind in California. Once a while it washes up on the shore and I try and catch it. I’m chasing after waves and a tide so unpredictable.


Today Terry, my adopted Californian dad, is gone. This Thanksgiving, his wife Linda will spend each breath breathing the agony of loss. A loss no one deserves. Today, I think of my students in California and pray that I didn’t mess them up too much. Today, I say a prayer for Jenni who is in New Zealand bravely conquering the false self that too often defeats the utter greatness found within her. Today, I learn to love. Today, I trust in the God who knows every road I have gone down, every road I will have yet to discover and I rest in the promise that only He knows why.