The Rose-colored Glass is Half Full

Moving is always a bit of an emotional time for me. Often it's hard to know what to feel about leaving a place, no matter what the overall experience was like. It's as if a pair of rose-colored glasses were forced on my face, and I had no choice but to look at that location in purely positive terms. This is especially bizarre in light of my penchant for pessimism. An inexplicable rise of some sort of "good old days" syndrome.

Part of the emotional experience of moving comes from going through all my stuff as I decide what to keep, and what to throw out. I wouldn't call myself a packrat, but I think most people would be surprised how sentimental I can get over certain things. A few days ago I started looking through some plastic containers, trying my best to be ruthless as I tried to balance that scale of sentimentality and practicality. I discovered I had a drawer full of photos I have taken over the last 12 years or so. There were pictures in there from a mission trip I took in the summer of 1997. There were pictures of my highschool classmates (my highschool reunion is this weekend, and I can't think of a single reason to pay money to relive that era. It wasn't a bad time, but as I only really knew a handful of people, I could find any reason to go) and pictures of the worship team I led at Grace Community from 2000 to 2002. There were pictures of our family dog Wrecks, and pictures of the kids I worked with in the '02-'03 school year at Rabbit Creek. There were pictures of people I haven't seen in years, some I hadn't thought about since the pictures were taken, and some very dear to my heart. So I went through hundreds and hundreds of pictures, weeding out the significant ones, tossing the crappy ones. I won't miss the pictures I threw away, but I was certainly given the opportunity to relive the last dozen years of my life. Bizarre.

I have a handful of little trinkets that sit on my desk wherever I go, which I rarely notice unless I'm moving. There are my small Buzz Lightyear and Woody bendy figurines that I got in a Christmas stocking the year Toy Story came out. Toy Story is still one of my favorite movies. I have a Lego AT-ST Walker and little Lego Chewbacca my good friend Gary gave all his groomsmen when he got married. I also have a Star Wars Airspeeder from Episode II (don't worry, I didn't actually remember what these vehicles were called. I looked them up. Actually, maybe researching their names is indeed grounds for concern. I'm a nerd. It's what I do, okay?) that was given to me by Rachel Heath, I believe. Actually, when I was a kid Legos were too expensive, so the most of the Legos I got were the little sets you'd get at McDonalds, all primary and secondary colors, and you could build anything rectangular. Even today Legos seem like a luxury, especially Star Wars Legos, so the combination of two of my childhood loves is the perfect trinkety kind of thing to keep around. It's funny that I don't really think about the significance these little things have until I put them away. Life's like that sometimes, I guess.

So my time here in Bend has been great times and really difficult at other times. I got to better know a handful of people at my dad's church, and be near my dear friends the Sheldons. I got to enjoy a lot of sunshine (I think I'm addicted to Vitamin D), and the beauty that Central Oregon has to offer. However, being away from Mandi, and my Portland family and friends most of the time has been hard. Really hard. It was a bit of tease that right about the time I really felt like I had true community somewhere, I felt I needed to move back in with Mommy and Daddy. I missed my church, missed playing on the worship team there, missed the diversity of Portland, as compared to Bend. I had a hard time appreciating my job in Bend, especially since the whole goal of moving back home was to save some money so I could get out onto the mission field sooner. However, despite the consistent frustrations living in Bend, I'm glad I did. Were there any "good old days?" Probably not. But God had things he needed to teach me, and people to learn to love. So, I think the rose colored glasses have been removed, but a bit of a rosy hue remains. It's been a difficult year, but all the goodness contained therein was worth the difficulty. It's kinda like God actually knows what He's doing. :-)

I'm excited to be going, despite my moments of melancholy over the last week or so. Seriously, just look at the way God has provided for my housing! How can this move not have God's name written all over it?! So while I'm leaving the peace of living with my folks, there are new and exciting things just over the Cascades. I'm excited to share it with you guys.

Cheers.

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