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I flew to Omaha last Tuesday to meet with the regional CRC Home Mission’s team and to listen to some presentations by the Acts 29 network folks, a church planting effort championed by Mark Driscoll of the Mars Hill church in Seattle. I drove to Phoenix from Tucson to catch the early morning flight. As some of you know,I had been suffering from a sinus infection and had to get my doctor’s permission to fly. In the darkness before dawn as I was driving the lens suddenly popped out of my glasses and I almost ran off the road trying to quickly adjust to being blind. I found my sunglasses and wore them the rest of the way in the darkness. Not good, but there weren’t a lot of options. I tried to fix my glasses but I am mostly thumbs and it was hopeless. Sitting at the airport with dark glasses on, a kid asked me if I was a famous athlete or something. I wish.
After landing I found an optician to fix my glasses, got to spend great time in intense conversations about planting churches, enjoyed a delicious Omaha steak dinner and then got to travel from Omaha to Waverly, a suburb of Lincoln, and meet with a church planter who I have been coaching for some time. I had not previously met him face to face. How amazingly helpful to meet his wife, see his neighborhood, and spend time in his house. I realize how important it is to me to be able to read faces and hear the nuances and how impossible it is to do that in a monthly phone call. I left Waverly to go back to Omaha and fell in to bed after midnight. I had a 7:00am breakfast meeting and then the Acts 29 conversations continued until late afternoon. After a Mexican food dinner (not quite up to Tucson standards, though the salsa was great) I drove an hour and a half to Sioux City to spend the night at my step brother’s house. I got there around 9:30pm and we talked into the wee hours. He is a good brother to me and a godly son to his father.
Thursday morning I had breakfast with my step brother and then drove for two and a half hours to Corsica, SD where my stepfather is in a nursing home. I spent a few hours with him. He suffers from dementia, but I was pleased that he recognized me and that we could have a bit of conversation. He showed me around and I got to meet his care givers. My mother still lives in Phoenix and it is hard for them to be apart, but she is still mentally sharp and able to maintain her house. His and her longing was for him to be close to his children when she could no longer care for him and God has graciously given them that gift. I recognized that I will probably not be able to make the trip to see him very often and I suspect he does not have many years left on this globe. He was a good husband to my mother and a great grandparent to my kids and I wanted to thank him for his love and tell him of my own. I pray he could understand.
After leaving him I turned the vehicle toward my hometown of Pella, Iowa. Those flat, fertile fields (some of which lie fallow) flew by and I had a long conversation with my Maker. It was a sweet time of confession and worship. At one point I got pretty exhausted and pulled into the parking lot of a little country church and slept for a bit in my SUV. After many hours of driving I arrived at my Uncle Bill and Aunt Marge about 9:30 at night. They were waiting for me and Aunt Marge fixed a cold roast beef sandwich and then another and then a bit of spice cake with ice cream. She made the cake just for me so it would have been hard to turn it down. She was heading for the refrigerator a third time to see what else she might have to feed he nephew, but I told her I could not eat another bite. We talked till late in the night. She is one of my prayer warriors and it was good to see her and wonder again how it is my father might have been had he lived.
Friday morning I went to breakfast with them and then stopped at Intveldt’s Meat Market to make arrangements to bring back Pella bologna and dried beef. The proprietor told me he would have the rings packed and ready to go Saturday morning. He then said, “We now take credit cards so you won’t have to pay by check.” Ten years ago when I was in Pella I did not have cash to pay for the bologna and was surprised he would take an out of state check. He told me then that he knew all my relatives and would be able to easily find me. It was fascinating that he picked up that same conversation ten years later. Only in Pella do such things happen. I drove thirty miles to Newton to visit my mother’s sister who is 93 and as sharp as can be. We had a lovely visit at her nursing home and when I said goodbye we both wept knowing we will not likely see each other again here in this world. I drove by my grandparent’s homes and the spot where our old farm used to be and then stopped by the Second Christian Reformed Church. The secretary and the janitor both ‘knew’ me as Ray and Bernice’s boy. The tile in the basement has not changed since I used to try to make it across the room touching only the green tiles.
I then visited with some of my Hugen cousins, followed by a trip to the Pizza Ranch for a supper with the rest of my mother’s siblings. Seven of my uncles and aunts met me there along with several of my cousins. All of my uncles and aunts are in their late 80's and 90's and get around with canes and walkers. I was amazed they would get out on a cold snowy evening just to meet with a nephew from Arizona. What a sweet, sweet time. All the old stories and jokes were told one more time. We laughed until we cried and then we wept knowing we will not likely meet again. As we said our goodbyes there were tears and yet the deep joy of understanding we all are safely in our Father’s care. It was a rich time of knowing that despite our sins and our distance and the things that keep us apart we are a family and God’s gift to each other. I know I will not see them again here below.
Saturday morning I had breakfast with seven or eight of my cousins and then picked up the Pella bologna and a few Dutch letters and packed my bags for home. I said goodbye to my uncle and aunt on the Hugen side and drove back to Omaha and home. Aunt Marge told me how much I remind her of my dad. She said she weeps when she sees me because of all the ways I am like him. She said, “Just like him you are a story teller and full of fun. And just like him, you love our God.” God gave me a rich time of meeting with those whom I love and who have loved me well. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to say I love you and to say goodbye. It was a rich pilgrimage. Saturday night I had dinner with my Mom in Phoenix and shared the stories from my trip. She is the baby of her family at age 80. I told her again that I loved her as I said goodbye. We live for a while here and then we meet our loving and good Maker.
Rod |
