I wrote a song some years ago. I titled it "Leavin' Again". I had just spent the summer in Washington state after spending Spring the year before in Europe. The inspiration for the song came out of the feeling of unsettled uncertainty and the thrill of the new and adventurous. I have noticed a pattern about myself. First, It seems I have been "Leavin' Again" for the majority of my adult life. I am on the brink of my third cross country move. To quote the Jane Eyre character Edward Rochester, "No sooner have you got settled, and a voice cries; rise and move on" (from the 2011 movie). Second, it seems it is times like this that are the main source of inspiration to get me writing, whether it be songs or posts or thoughts.
And so, here I am writing the first blog post in a while on the eve of another 2800 mile trip back to Washington state from Alabama.
I was concerned about letting folks at our school and church know that we were moving back. I didn't want them to get the wrong impression especially since so many had given my family a lot of support and encouragement this year. Of course everyone was very supportive as well as sad when we told them but one question kept coming up from folks, one which I had been intentionally pushing to the back of my mind, "Why would God have moved you across the country, away from your family, to just move you straight back to where you came from after one year?" I never knew quite how to answer people when they asked me that. The problem is either that I don't have an answer or that there are too many answers.
I can think of a dozen ways that God has used our year in Alabama to sanctify myself and my family and bring us closer to Him. Being a good distance from any immediate family, this time has allowed us to experience some familial independence. As a young family I realize now more than ever how important it is to have a sense of family independence, that your family is its own unit instead of one working part of a big machine. Being on our own in a new place has gone a long way in helping to establish that sense of independence. It is something I would not have traded for anything. It has also made us acutely aware of our dependence especially on God to provide for us and fulfill us. Even the things that run most deep in this world are temporal, but God and His love for us are not. Now more than ever I think we are beginning to understand what it means to be pilgrims, sojourners traveling through this life toward our permanent home. It has forced us to seek ultimate satisfaction in eternal things rather than the things of this world. We have also had to put ourselves out there and go beyond what is comfortable. We couldn't rely on Friday night family dinners, or pot lucks with familiar church members, or drinks with childhood friends for community and fellowship. We had to build relationships from the ground up, take risks and make ourselves vulnerable.
Even experiencing a different place geographically and culturally has been beneficial. The Deep South is steeped in a more agrarian history and culture which appeals to my wife's interests with its year round growing seasons and abundance of resources from both sea and land. The people as well contribute to that comfortable, easy going hospitality that the South is all too well known for. Being here for a year allowed us to appreciate the brief taste of a new place and all it can offer. It is too easy to get comfortable where you are and forget the riches that other places in the world have to offer. Our short jaunt across the country has also allowed me to appease my more adventurous side. One of the Elliott family mottoes in our heraldry is Peradventure, which can be roughly translated as "through adventure." I don't know if it is because I am an Elliott and have it in my blood or if it is because it makes me feel some sense of connection to my family history, but I think I have adopted that motto for my own life. I want to live my life through adventure. I always want to be having adventures and see my life as an adventure.
I can't say that leaving tomorrow isn't going to be sorrowful. However excited we are to be back with family and familiar friends we are also melancholy about all the we are leaving behind; all the more because of the brief time in which it took for us to build relationships and attachments here. So, why did God bring us all the way down here just to take us right back after a year? I don't know how to answer that, and I am not sure I need to. But what I do know can be summed up in the words of none other than the master poet/adventure teller himself, Mr. Bilbo Baggins:
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains of the moon.
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
And so, here I am writing the first blog post in a while on the eve of another 2800 mile trip back to Washington state from Alabama.
I was concerned about letting folks at our school and church know that we were moving back. I didn't want them to get the wrong impression especially since so many had given my family a lot of support and encouragement this year. Of course everyone was very supportive as well as sad when we told them but one question kept coming up from folks, one which I had been intentionally pushing to the back of my mind, "Why would God have moved you across the country, away from your family, to just move you straight back to where you came from after one year?" I never knew quite how to answer people when they asked me that. The problem is either that I don't have an answer or that there are too many answers.
I can think of a dozen ways that God has used our year in Alabama to sanctify myself and my family and bring us closer to Him. Being a good distance from any immediate family, this time has allowed us to experience some familial independence. As a young family I realize now more than ever how important it is to have a sense of family independence, that your family is its own unit instead of one working part of a big machine. Being on our own in a new place has gone a long way in helping to establish that sense of independence. It is something I would not have traded for anything. It has also made us acutely aware of our dependence especially on God to provide for us and fulfill us. Even the things that run most deep in this world are temporal, but God and His love for us are not. Now more than ever I think we are beginning to understand what it means to be pilgrims, sojourners traveling through this life toward our permanent home. It has forced us to seek ultimate satisfaction in eternal things rather than the things of this world. We have also had to put ourselves out there and go beyond what is comfortable. We couldn't rely on Friday night family dinners, or pot lucks with familiar church members, or drinks with childhood friends for community and fellowship. We had to build relationships from the ground up, take risks and make ourselves vulnerable.
Even experiencing a different place geographically and culturally has been beneficial. The Deep South is steeped in a more agrarian history and culture which appeals to my wife's interests with its year round growing seasons and abundance of resources from both sea and land. The people as well contribute to that comfortable, easy going hospitality that the South is all too well known for. Being here for a year allowed us to appreciate the brief taste of a new place and all it can offer. It is too easy to get comfortable where you are and forget the riches that other places in the world have to offer. Our short jaunt across the country has also allowed me to appease my more adventurous side. One of the Elliott family mottoes in our heraldry is Peradventure, which can be roughly translated as "through adventure." I don't know if it is because I am an Elliott and have it in my blood or if it is because it makes me feel some sense of connection to my family history, but I think I have adopted that motto for my own life. I want to live my life through adventure. I always want to be having adventures and see my life as an adventure.
I can't say that leaving tomorrow isn't going to be sorrowful. However excited we are to be back with family and familiar friends we are also melancholy about all the we are leaving behind; all the more because of the brief time in which it took for us to build relationships and attachments here. So, why did God bring us all the way down here just to take us right back after a year? I don't know how to answer that, and I am not sure I need to. But what I do know can be summed up in the words of none other than the master poet/adventure teller himself, Mr. Bilbo Baggins:
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains of the moon.
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.