Moving

A Bend in the Road

Bend, OR

We left this morning. After a string of goodbyes, breakfast, and tire pressure checking, we hit the road. I don’t mean to get dorky here, but it reminded me of leaving Rivendell. You know, Lord of the Rings style.

So we got a cheap room in Bend, OR, which isn’t exactly half way, but that’s okay. After the last few days, it’s far enough.

But Bend was at the end, and it’s not what I want to write about. What happened on the beginning of our journey today is what’s worth noting.

Megan’s parents generously gave us a Garmin GPS for Christmas. Like any new toy, we fooled around with the settings until it became unique to us.

A few years back, after buying the Prius, I changed the display screen to French. I don’t speak French or anything, it’s just how I get my kicks. Don’t judge me.

So Megan turned the red car on the GPS screen into an awesome looking eagle… or hawk. I’m not quite sure. You can’t really see the beak. At first, I couldn’t stop staring at this bird. Every time the car moved, the bird flapped its wings. As the driver, this was bad news.

Eventually I took my eyes off of the eagle and back on the road. As I admired the significance of the bird’s wings in concordance to the distance we were rapidly gaining from home, I was filled with wonder.

(Hesitant to make another Tolken reference, I will remove a metaphor to the eagle scene from The Hobbit.)

Each mile we drove, or flapped rather, we traveled further from home. It soon became apparent that we were on our own. Hitting the road. Just the two of us. Finally.

The adventure has begun.

So we drove. And drove. The GPS bird tirelessly flapped its wings. The Prius, a little heavier than it’s used to, carried us along and groaned at the hills.

In Bend, OR, we stay the night and get up early for the final leg of our drive. It’s a drive we’ve made many times before, though only to turn around too soon and head home. Now we have six months to spend. Maybe more.

Our home isn’t Coeur d’Alene, Idaho anymore, but it isn’t San Luis Obispo either. Our home is each other. That’s where we belong.

And of course, on the wings of a God who loves us.

Saying Goodbyes, Lessons of Moving

picstitch

Laying awake last night, my wife slept and my mind raced with questions: Should we really leave? Is it the right decision? Can we really fit everything in the Prius? Can the Seahawks beat the Redskins? … there may have been one or two rabbit trails.

It’s been close to four years since I left California for Idaho; an easy decision at the time. Now, I can’t imagine why I would ever leave Idaho… the Northwest.

It’s beautiful. There’s snow. The people are as genuine as it gets. There’s coffee on every street corner.

I absolutely love the comfort of life up here. Still, I know I’m near to leave. This time, I suckered a pretty lady into coming with me. Well we’re married so she has to come.

So we’re saying our goodbyes. My work friends, her family, our church amigos, the turkeys on the street, we will not see them for a little while.

I wanted to write an in-depth reflection of my time here, but that sounds boring. Instead, I think I’ll just give a little advice:

Live Like It’s Your Last Week In Town: Tell those you love that you love them. Hang out with the people most important to you. It’s foolish to wait, as I have, to thank everyone for their kindness and grace. Enjoy the present.

Throw Away Your Stuff: We have been getting rid of things I never knew existed, and yet for some reason have been packing around for years. It’s great to get sentimental over things that matter, but a pile of burned CDs from high school just needs to go away.

Go On An Adventure: I’m a big fan of these. It doesn’t have to be a life changing-geographical move, but grab someone you love and take them somewhere new, somewhere challenging. Phones, internet, TV… they are all promoting a lie that the world is a small place. It’s not, in fact it’s huge. Go out and see for your self.

Hey north Idaho, thanks for everything.