It’s weird going from living in a place that you are a student of to living in a place that you are a product of.  I’m not sure if anyone knows what I mean by that but having lived far from home for most of the past 15 years I am now back in the Bay Area and much as I’m happy to be at home near family, it is just weird.  For years we’ve lived in places that were not our points of origin.  We were far from home, though we were home.  We have always firmly believed that one must bloom where one is planted, that one must put down roots even when there is the risk of being once again uprooted.  We have always acted on this belief and our lives are richer for it.  We have roots in every place we have called home as a married couple and as a family and we wouldn’t trade those roots for anything.

In every place we have lived, we have been a student of that place.  We have sought to know it and its people and ways.  We have gotten acquainted with the famous landmarks and favorite haunts of the local people.  We have become part of our place.  When we lived in Dallas we were Texans (though I think we felt we were amongst many other former non-Texans there!) When we lived in Aggieland we were Aggies (even though we didn’t go to A&M).  When we lived in Canada we were Calgarians.  Here, back in California, the state we both call home, the place we grew up in until we each graduated high school, we are obviously Californians.  But having grown up here I don’t have this feeling that I must learn this place.  I am this place.  I know these streets.  I know these faces.  I am one of them.  But if I am going to be an effective tool in the hand of God, I must be a student of this place of which I am a product.  I cannot just be a product of it alone.  If I am to serve this community, to love its inhabitants, to know them personally and be able to speak into their lives I must be a student of this place that I have always referred to as home.

That is my challenge and my mission:  To walk and drive these streets not with only the intention of getting from point A to point B but, as I have had to do in the homes that were not my native home, with the intention of knowing and understanding the beauties and strengths of these people in this place at this time as well as the diversity of needs and brokenness in this community that could so easily escape my notice if I just exist here as I did as a child and don’t study here.


And now for pictures.

Our goodbyes at church were hard and included many tears.  But we still smiled for the pictures.

My boys and some of their best buddies…

Ds and Ms 2

Best Pals 3

Best Pals 2


best buddies


Me with several of my dear friends… (though some of them I could not grab for a picture or were not there…)
















Nan Catherine

And us with some of our friends…

The Yombos (minus a few of their kids and all of ours!)


Annie and her son Paul…


And Shawn with some of his friends…





All of you are missed.  We love you and thank you for loving us and making us feel like family for seven years.

One thought on “It's weird…

  1. It’s hard to read that and not have tears myself. What you said about being home, a product of the place and a student is profound. I pray that God will, indeed, prepare your hearts to love and serve there in ways that will probably stretch you because of your familiarity. How wonderful to be near family, though, especially with the boys! I love your pictures, and what I notice about the ones of you and the older women is that they have a certain look of…wisdom, an assured/assuring kind of love. I’m not sure how to put words to the thoughts, but maybe you know what I mean. Also, I am a total goof, and I just really got your URL, or whatever. 🙂 It all of a sudden clicked (when I saw your hubby’s name written out). I’m quick, aren’t I? haha
    I look forward to hearing about your life in a new/old area! I pray that God will help make the transition a good one.

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