Why Life Part Two?

You may have noticed the title of our little blog here. I chose this name during the 10 weeks or so between when we accepted the job and when we moved. We have moved five times in our marriage, but they have all been mostly local moves, and we keep carrying around all these boxes of really old junk that accumulated the last 20 years or so, some even from before we were married. You know, the kind of stuff you're not quite ready to get rid of, yet doesn't have a function in daily life, so it just gets put in a box. And when it's time to move, those boxes stay packed up and just get moved, and then stored at the new place. Well, with this move to San Diego, we knew it was time to go through our stuff. Maybe it's the distance, the lack of storage (houses here don't have basements), who knows, but we felt the need to really do some cleaning out (cleansing?). So, the week before Allen left, he went through many boxes and we thre away stuff that made us feel...really old. For example, two things of note were class notes, handouts and exams from college. College stuff? No big deal right? Except for the fact that some of these had been reproduced on a mimeograph machine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimeograph_machine). When we saw the telltale purple ink, we just laughed. We realize some of you don't even know what a mimeograph is. Well, just know it's what people used before copy machines and desktop printers. We also threw away loads of 5.25" floppy disks. Does anyone even have a 5.25" drive anymore?! We threw away job offer letters and resignation letters from the last couple of jobs. There was a memo from Allen's first job out of college at McDonnell Douglas. It was addressed to some of the very same people Allen is (was) still working with in the St. Louis laser field today. The same guys have been together in many ways and forms for the last 20 years. All these things put together made us reflect on the fact that we now have over 2 decades of adult life under our belts....and well, it made us feel...mmm, like we're in our forties. Sigh. Plus, embarking on this move to California, leaving everything comfortable and all we know, it feels like we're setting out on a new adventure. In many ways, kinda the same feeling as when you leave home to begin college...a fresh start...big unknowns...empty slate in front of you...open hands of trust in the Maker of our Path. Life, Part Two.

Becky

Sweet the Moments, Rich in Blessing

Okay, okay, I guess my dreams of having all this free time after our move have gone down the pipes as you can tell by our apparent inability to make a post to our blog every once in a while. Our apologies please. Thanks for hanging in there with us. I’m in my 6th week of being in lovely San Diego (this is Becky writing) and I have so many paragraphs backed up in my head that it’s hard to know where to begin. So, I will start back at the end of the St. Louis part, our final weeks there.

I have wanted to write about that time and how deeply the goodbye process impacted us ever since then. To say it was hard leaving friends we’ve known for decades, and family we’ve known for, well, all our lives, would be an understatement. Yet, even through double goodbyes in many cases (once before Allen left, and then again before Stephen and I left) I was frustrated with myself at my lack of emotion after just a few evenings of these departures. I guess the reality of saying goodbye happened for us mentally during the time of wrestling with whether to move, so when the time came to say goodbye face-to-face, we were weeks gone already.

However, one evening it all hit, the Friday the movers came to pack our house. Christy Fuller had kept Stephen all day for me and I went over to pick him up and stayed for dinner. It was late when Stephen and I finally left and as we drove away the cd that was in the player picked up with the next track. Already a reflective moment after saying goodbye, the acoustic guitar just added to it. Then the first line of words began: “Sweet the moments, rich in blessing…” and I lost it. Those words encapsulated how I’d felt thinking about all the sweet and rich moments spent together with them and others, the sweeping reality of closure of this part of our lives. Even though I was applying those words to my friends, the song is really about the sweet time spent with our Savior. But that’s where it all came together beautifully for me, as I worshiped through tears and praised the caring, guiding hand of God over all our lives, the intersection of this weaving together of our paths, the story He’s writing, all for His glory, as we’re on this daily journey of faith with open hands. We have lived and served and worshiped together in the sweet moments of His love, near the cross. The rest of verse one and the chorus say:
Sweet the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend.
Life, and health, and peace possessing
From the sinner’s dying friend.

Oh that, near the cross abiding,
I may to the Savior cleave;
Naught with Him my heart dividing,
All for Him content to leave.

One particular goodbye that demands special attention is that with our friend, Vic Huber. We’ve known Vic through church the last 16 years, and even more specially as we became his neighbors when we moved to Greendale 3 years ago. We’ve spent countless hours with this man of God the last few years, riding together to church (each time he’d have some little trinket or sticker or candy to share with Stephen), him in our home for UMSL ministry, small group and other occasions, one of which was his 91st birthday celebration last year. Vic gradually became weaker over this last year, homebound since about Christmas, and bedbound shortly thereafter. As we could see his body deteriorate with each visit these last few months, I selfishly hoped he would die before we moved to San Diego; we wanted to see his suffering relieved. Vic went to be with Jesus on July 20. We moved July 25. We honor this man who was like a great-grandpa to Stephen and a role model of faith and godliness to all of us. He is indeed now living countless sweet moments rich in blessing. All for Him, content to leave.

Becky