Monday, June 29, 2009
Please update your bookmarks and RSS readers, and feel free to put me on your blogroll or share the link with others. And I'd love for you to comment over there so I know you found me.
One note: You'll notice over there that just for the sake of privacy/safety, I'll be a bit more vague about some things. In particular, I'm not sharing as many details of Anna's life—and I'll be referring to her as AJ or the Joygirl, so please try to use those nicknames. And I won't be linking from that blog back to this one, although I will leave this one active for some time to make sure all my readers find my new place.
Thank you for following this blog over the last three years, whether the news and posts were interesting or I was in a slump. I hope we can have even greater conversations over at Living the Epilogue.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
To our brother and sisters, our friends and our family in Waldport:
The time has come to remember, to celebrate, and to part ways. Our time here has come to an end so that you may walk into a new beginning. Our epilogue is the new beginning of what God is doing next here in this place, through you and in you.
We are grieving our separation from you as deeply as you are grieving us. But we must turn to the next thing, becoming single-minded as we stretch and begin the next leg of our race, and so must you. Yes, this is difficult. It was not for no reason that the apostle Paul called it “straining” toward the goal. It is a strain. It is difficult. Yet we press on.
We are grateful to you for countless moments shared talking, laughing, crying, praying, eating, playing, working, and singing. We are grateful for your help and hospitality, your patience and forgiveness, your love and affection for us and our daughter. Truly we could not have asked more of a congregation. But as we prepare to step away, I ask one thing:
If you love us, feed these sheep.
Feed the children and teens and young adults who come to church, and the ones who don’t. Feed the Frontline kids, the Young Life kids, the graduates, and the younger siblings. Feed their parents and their unplanned babies. Feed the hungry and the stuffed with overconfidence; the talented and the awkward; the go-getters and the do-nothings; the thinkers, dreamers, in-betweeners. Feed their leaders all the support, resources, and encouragement they can hold.
Feed them with Oreos and soda and pizza and chips. Feed them Mondays before Club and Sundays at Frontline. Feed them a sandwich at the game, lunch out just to talk, or a holiday feast in your home. Feed them the next day with the leftovers you sent home.
Feed them the Word, with Scripture that never changes in language they can understand. Feed them words of recognition and encouragement in the grocery store, at the car wash, on the street. Feed them the Living Word by being the Christ who gives rides to town, who helps with financial aid forms, who simply knows their name. Be Christ with your presence where they are competing or performing or just plain being.
You can do this. You can make a difference. You are ready.
We have taken many steps together, but you can go on in this work without us. God is with you. He will make a way. “He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber” (Psalm 121:3).
And so, as the time draws near, I am finding rest in remembering that Jehovah Jireh, the God Who Provides, is also the Prince of Peace. He will make the way, and He will be present to comfort us when the road seems long and the distance great. And so, dear friends,
For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
He is able, and I know you are willing. I can’t wait to see what He does with you next.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
P.S.: Obviously we were only about twelve when we got married—or I was, anyway—because I got carded today. Ha ha!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I'm also turning into our friend Bob, voted Most Likely to Cry During a Young Life Function twelve years running. I'm at graduation—getting misty. I'm in church—teary. I'm interviewing a pastor candidate—blinking a lot and losing the battle anyway. I'm telling my daughter we have to say goodbye to everyone for a long time and it will be sad, and I'm the one who needs a hug. You can imagine the disaster that was me reading Aaron's final church newsletter column.
We're three weeks away, and I still don't know how to say goodbye.