I'm not a philosopher or one of those old guys with long beards who sit in dark rooms and contemplate the meaning of everything. With lots of globes and wall-sized maps and possibly a creepy looking bird hanging out in the background. And a skull lurking close by. Maybe I'm picturing a wizard more than a philosopher? Like Gandalf or Merlin. I wonder if Socrates had a creepy bird?
Moving on...
The truth is, I am totally one of those guys. Except I'm not a guy and I don't have a long beard, or a creepy bird, or any skulls. But I do enjoy sitting in dark rooms (which has always driven my mother crazy: "Turn on a light! You'll ruin your eyes sitting in the dark!"or "Open your curtains! It's so depressing in here!"). And I kinda enjoy globes and wall-sized maps.
Bottom line is, I absolutely contemplate the meaning of everything thanks to my parents and their "eternal perspective" way of raising us. Most of the time, I'm glad for that. Other times, not so much. Like, can I just have something happen in my life that just happens instead of my brain analyzing it to death and causing sleepless nights...or conversations with myself about "why" and "what does it all mean"...or bouncing things off of my husband until all he can say is, "Will you just relax!"?? No, no I can't. It's just how I'm wired. Or trained...?
When I was 6 years old, we left Rockwall, Texas and moved to Waco, Texas. My dad went from being an assistant youth pastor to a senior pastor literally overnight. And I'm not using the word "literally" in a Chandler Bing kind of way. I mean it in a one day we were living in a tiny rent house where my dad was gone 5 nights a week helping with services to the next day we were moving into a bigger house in a weird place with my dad being the guy in charge kind of way. At least that's how my 6-year old self remembers it. I'm sure it was terribly stressful for my parents. I can only imagine now that I'm a grown-up with a family of my own. But, looking back, I didn't help the situation much. I had a very hard time adjusting. I started lying, not doing my school work, acting out, and crying constantly. I didn't sleep very well. All I wanted to do was listen to Amy Grant and call my friend, Jenni, on the phone. My best friend, Jenni. My first friend and the one person I missed more than anything. On the rare occasions my parents would let me call her (let's face it, long distance calling back in 1986 was expensive and we weren't exactly rolling in the dough) we would sit in silence or play "Stay For Awhile"over the phone until we were crying so much that it turned into a pointless endeavor. Thankfully, our friendship survived with sporadic phone calls, postcards, occasional letters that were sent based on whether or not Mom had a random stamp lying around, and week-long visits once every summer. Now we live even further apart, but we are still first friends who cherish every little conversation, moment spent together, memory made. Ok, in all honesty, she still resents me for leaving her when we were 6. She never misses an opportunity to remind me. But, I still resent leaving, so I guess it evens out. Regardless, it doesn't diminish anything about our relationship. In fact, I think it makes our relationship even more special.
When I was 15, we moved from Waco to Orlando. Deja vu! Boy howdy, do I really have to relive that? That was rough. So rough. That time, I didn't leave just 1 best friend, I left several. And Jenni, too, since we were not just 2 hours away anymore. We were now 2 days away...2,000+ miles...on the other side of the country. I think we got our first computer the next year and I was finally able to keep in touch with everyone through email and AOL instant messenger. No more relying on letters! It was glorious. I was able to see my friends and my beloved state once a year at ROCK Conference. But, like all good things, that came to an end. I tried to make friends here, but when your whole life is nothing but homeschool and church, the friends thing was a tad tricky. There were no girls my age in the church which left nothing but a bunch of hormonal males who tried to out do each other in the "let's impress the preacher's daughter by acting like idiots and wearing too much AXE spray" department. Like I said, it was rough.
In the 20-years that I have lived in O-town, I can say that there have been a handful of friends who I finally let myself trust, get close to, and share life with. Some were my age... some were younger, some were older. And now I find myself in a place where all of them have either left to pursue life elsewhere or will be leaving soon to head out on new adventures. So now I'm no longer the one doing the leaving...I'm the one being left.
Wait. Before you feel sorry for me or roll your eyes at my predicament (depending on which type of personality you possess-if I were you, I would be genuinely torn between both responses), let me get to the deja vu part. I know, this is taking forever, but I obviously inherited my father's gift for drawing things out, so bear with me.
Yesterday I watched as my firstborn said goodbye to her first friend, her best friend. Taryn and Destiny first "met" when Desi was 5 months old and Taryn was a newborn. They have celebrated every birthday together, made chocolate pretzels together every Christmas, and shared a mutual love for Ross Lynch. Now Taryn and her family are moving to Tennessee to start the next chapter of their life. I watched as my little girl hugged her friend and held on for dear life. I watched as she sobbed and made her promise to never forget her. I watched and was transported back to the first time, the second time, the third time...all the times that I held on for dear life and wanted nothing more than to keep them with me forever. It was gut-wrenching and it was beautiful and I almost forgot that I was saying goodbye to my friend, too. Taryn's mom, Jen, is one of those that I let myself be friends with. Someone who has spoken truth into my life and made me laugh until I couldn't breathe. Someone who helps me limp along and reminds me that my life is not like anyone else's she's ever known. In a loving, helpful way, of course.
It's deja vu, all over again!
So, why does it seem like me and mine are destined to live far away from our friends? Why can't we just belong somewhere for life, with those we love the most? Why do we always have to be dreading the ending instead of joyous about the good stuff never ending? I wish I had a deep, meaningful answer. But, I don't. I think it's just because the reality is this life and this place is not our home...our finale...our happy place. When I'm faced with one more goodbye, my "eternal perspective" (thanks, parents) kicks in and I remember that I still have something to look forward to. One day I will be with all of them in Glory. Ok, so that doesn't help immediately, but eventually I let the idea sink in and I feel a weight lifted. It's nothing super spiritual or philosophical, but it helps to remove the massive lump in my throat and dry the hot tears.
All the leaving/being left has made me extremely cautious about getting close to people. Not that I don't want friends or social experiences, but I am guarded to the ending that I fear will inevitably come. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe that's my way of protecting the heartbroken six-year old that still wants to cry her eyes out every time she hears Amy sing "Stay For Awhile". Or the angry 15-year old that still doesn't understand why. Or the 35-year old who wanted nothing more than to shield her baby girl from the same pain.
Whatever all of the goodbye's have brought, I know 3 things for sure:
1.) I treasure the moments and the relationships so much more with the distance than I think I ever would have if we were in the same proximity.
2.) God doesn't take away without giving something in return.
3.) God is the only one who has never left and will never leave.
The Bible is filled with people who left or were left. Hello?? You could start from the beginning and list Noah who left people behind, Abraham left his home as did Isaac and Jacob. Joseph was left for dead, Moses left to follow God's call, Ruth left to follow her mother-in-law, David left to save his life, Hannah parted with her son, Daniel left his home, Hosea was left by his faithless wife, Job was left with nothing, Esther left her uncle and home, Mary and Joseph left to protect Jesus from harm. The list is never-ending! Shoot! Even Jesus left his friends to return to Heaven and those friends left each other to "go out into all the world". So, who the heck am I to sit in self-pity and lament the countless goodbye's??
C'mon, Shelbs...when will you ever learn?
Like I said, not deep or particularly meaningful. Although, I did sit in a somewhat dark room and type this. But, I'm still no philosopher.
Or wizard.
"Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the Lord your God goes with you;
he will never leave you nor forsake you."~ Deut. 31:6
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