“And by and by Christopher Robin came to an end of things, and he was silent, and he sat there, looking out over the world, just wishing it wouldn’t stop.“
I think I've been avoiding this post. Sitting here, reading that quote for the one-hundredth time, I am forced to admit my reality of being in Wichita with no set plan to return to Oregon. You see, A. A. Milne spoke that quote to me, a year after my first encounter with it, a brief two nights before I departed Oregon after spending almost half a year there. Five and a half months is quite the expanse of time, my friends. In fact, I challenge you to spend that much time in a place and not allow your heart to settle there. That was the most trying part, because in past experiences, I have only been long enough away to build really great relationships, but not feel like I had actually moveed, Does that make sense? I've always known where in my tenure I was. This time, however, there were enough pace changes and even season changes that my whole person settled as if it was a more permanent situation. In one way, that made it all the more worthwhile. I lost the sense of "I'm leaving" and gained the feeling of "this is life", so I dug into it more. In another way, it hurts. Unfortunately, I cannot work around that.
My most recent stint in OR was one of the most impacting periods of my life. Not only was I isolated in a desert, but I was also isolated in my job. There was no community handed to me. In fact, if I wanted it, I had to work to get it. Eventually, I did achieve a really wonderful community in my roommates and a couple other people, but it took a while to get there, and then even longer to really maintain. Murphy's Law would dictate that the community begins flourishing just as it is about to be disrupted, and Murphy was right. However, that is okay. My goal is not to discredit any of that community, as it was necessary for my survival, and it was wonderful. That being said, the lack of community that I mentioned influenced me just as much as the moments filled with community.
Before going to the Ranch last May, I was far more dependent on my friendships than I would have ever cared to admit. Furthermore, my identity was wrapped up in having friendships that looked the way I wanted them to look. So, I was put in a desert working my ass off in a job that didn't have tons of companionship (managing people, being managed, and only having one other person in your position who always worked opposite shifts of you), living with three guys whom I didn't know beforehand and hardly saw. Truthfully, I thought I would rely on older friendships to get me through, however communication is difficult out there. I've always prided myself on my communication abilities, but even the best laid plans go awry when exhaustion is so pervasive and you work harder than you knew you could. Because of these things, I learned to not only survive, but thrive independently. My reliance began to shift from those relationships upon which I leaned too heavily, to the relationship on which I don't lean enough.
Part of me wishes I could tell you that this season changed all of my habits, rid me of all of my sinful nature, got me doing daily devotionals with ease, and all other wonderful things that "true Christians" are supposed to have together. That would be a lie. What this season did accomplish was changing my view to see Christ in things that I otherwise would overlook. It allowed me to see Christ within my own heart and truly believe that my identity did not need friendships to exist. Do friendships aid in molding me to be this person I believe Christ wants me to be? Of course. Are friendships necessary in life? I believe so. However, they are not necessary for the reasons I thought. Friendships are there to sharpen us, teach us, love us, but not define us. This was knowledge that existed in my head but had never quite made it to my heart. Because of this new "heart-knowledge" my friendships prospered. Naturally I saw it in my friendships out in OR, and in the broader Pacific Northwest, but now I do see it in the relationships in which I'm investing here in Wichita.
Friendships in Wichita, and even my work in Wichita, have helped to smooth this transition. But all the smoothing in the world cannot prevent my heart from longing for what it knows exists in relationships all across the country. Interestingly, I had no tearful farewell. I say it is interesting because tearful departures are kind of in my blood. Even this quote didn't shake me enough to bring tears. However, as I was leaving the the state of Oregon, I heard the quote a little differently in my head:
"And by and by, we have come to an end of the things, and we are silent, and we sit here, driving out into the world, and just wishing it wouldn't stop".
Truer words have ne'er been spoken. And as I meditated on that statement, I realized that in all of my readiness for change and home that I never wanted those relationships, that world which I was leaving, these adventures of travel, to ever, ever stop. And tears finally flowed.
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