Hmm… almost missed this. I got caught up doing other tasks, and just now remembered I didn’t write the morning. I woke up early, ready to go. It was cool and beautiful out, inside in was cold enough to see my breath. The day is certainly Spring. The cool breeze puts in motion all the budding trees and flowering plants. Periwinkle winds its way around tree stumps, and over bare hillsides, its purple flowers everywhere, popping out from hidden places. The light mist of the early morning has burned off, the glistening of the condensation has disappeared. A chickadee chirps in apparent delight.

This is the last day of April. I’m not sure why this has meaning to me, but it does. The coming of May seems like a major change, maybe it goes back to my college days where it meant a finishing for the year.

I’m finding myself easily distracted these days, yet also forcing my way through, trying to be fluid in my pursuits, taking up that which fills and encourages. I’m not getting one thing done in an orderly fashion, instead working on a lot of things. Not having a deadline or someone looking over one’s shoulder has both benefits and cautions. I encounter both on a daily basis.

It is also the case I am drifting ever steadily away from my past. My intentions in coming up here were to stay and refocus for a while, settle some issues, forge new paths. Then the fire came that first month, and I found myself bonding with family, who refused to evacuate, and finding myself distant from others, who thought we all should. The stress of facing flames and praying during such a dramatic time shifted something in me. It was enlivening in a way, reminding me there is more to life than getting a paycheck, more to friendship and devotion than sharing an occasional meal.

Even still I thought to keep connections, to look for ways to come back down the hill, to maintain the friendships, to stay on similar paths. Now, I’m finding this isn’t quite the way of things. Why? That’s what I’m asking myself. What’s the point of that really? I do not have much to offer these days, but that which I do have I did offer, and found myself not as much rejected as just ignored. Which is fine, really. For it tells me that the pursuit of those paths would not have ended well anyhow. It would have been chasing shadows. And God knew.

The temptation is to reject, but I don’t. I would strike up the old friendships in a moment if that was offered. But they are not, and for me to find them, I would have to become someone I am not, to choose a path for uncertain gains, while rejecting the present path towards peace. Deep friendships would not force this choice on me, and some in fact have not, for which I am thankful.

But, with the choice before me, I choose to pursue peace, and now have to find what this means as the transition continues. There is no temptation for me to return. What would I go back to? Why should I fight to find that which is apparently without depth?

This sounds a depressing thought. But it isn’t. For it opens up the possibility of new worlds. I tried the old roads, and now can try paths I haven’t gone down.

The thought of maintaining the old connections kept a leash on my thoughts, for I was always considering how to do what is right and also find a way back. Not as much anymore. Unless a miracle happens, I can’t imagine returning to the old neighborhood, dealing with the old issues, trying to build and be frustrated. This is a freeing thought.

All this doesn’t necessarily mean I’m staying in my present location. I’ve always felt this to be a transitory place, and for good reasons. It is where this is transitioning towards which has been changed in my mind.

I would not have planned this. In fact, had I power in the past I would have stayed in Pasadena, enjoying a nice apartment, and the good friends there. I tried, seeking positions, applying at places I was perfect for, and finding hardly even a response, let alone a sense of hope in the quest. At the end of the year, however, it was beyond my ability to continue without assistance, and the only assistance brought me to where I am now.

So, I trust that God is at work, taking me out of where I wanted to be, taking me away from pursuits I was excited about, to come here, where I never would have come, and now, it seems, beginning to find a future where I never expected even a moment.

Not that I really am sold, even still. I would be sorely tempted to return if I had even one good reason, one way which would make that a realistic possibility. To fight, one has to have something to fight for. That’s why I left, and that’s why it seems increasingly I have no reasons to return.

I note all of this because it is a transition for me, from one life to another. From one which began in 1997 after I graduated Wheaton, and went until 2003 when Fuller finally had finished with me.

It is with wistful thoughts I consider this. I leaped into the river, however, continued my path in the void, and the current has led me here. So I ponder the transition with joy and with a bit of sadness, missing what is behind, not knowing what is ahead, wishing there could be a bridge between the two. Again, though, had there been a bridge I would not have crossed, if the ships were not burning I would get in and sail back.

All is in God’s hands. In that I trust.