Moving

I am going to head over to my parent’s house this weekend for the last time. We will all say goodbye. The moving truck will transplant a collection of tangible memories, necessities and furniture to a new home. All of this is bittersweet. This is the home I grew up in and have most of my childhood memories. It is the home where I invented a thousand adventures and the home I rested in for decades. I have spent dozens of Christmases and holidays in this home. I met and proposed to my wife while in this home. My kids love going there and swimming in the pool, playing in the yard and spending the night with grandparents. Bittersweet for sure.

I have a host of great memories, and some difficult in that home. The Lord has stitched together both the good and the bad to make me into what I am today. Regardless of the seasons of life, this home has always been a safe place. It was a certain sign of security for my wandering soul. I could literally always “go home” and just simply “be.” The shape of my life has drastically changed as I am now building a home for my family. I am hoping that they will one day look back on the memories of our home and bless the Lord for the time they had there. It won’t be a perfect place, but I pray it is a place of rest and security and laughter and love.

In the end, with the closing of one season, the building of a new one and the beginning of another, Acts 17 seems to place it all under the right perspective:

“And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us.” (Acts 17:26-27 ESV)