Soft Landing, Warm Dinner

Yesterday we made the drive from Corpus Christi back to Tomball; my dad in the passengers seat with his arm propped up on three pillows.

Thanks to all who prayed and to our God who heard our cries. We set down in a lush field of green to the open arms of friends and family. While no major bruises, there remain lingering thoughts of what may have been, and three rather nasty incisions in my dad's left wrist and forearm. The wounds will have to close up on their own, which should take about three weeks. That is, if we can convince him to go to the wound care clinic, and let if be dressed and cleaned by professionals. Driving home he set up his first appointment, but upon learning the price of the service, was determined to do it on his own. With a little persuasion we were able to convince him to go every other day, while changing the gauze himself (well, with moms help) during the intermediary day.

For me, as soon as we pulled up to my parents house, I threw my stuff in my truck along with two bags of range cubes, fed said cubes to the cows, and then trucked it to the store to purchase the ingredients for dinner with the people in my book study (aka. the drinking club).

This was what I needed. While I was not alone in Corpus, I was disconnected from a large part of my community. I have never been one to get homesick, but I missed engaging with friends.

What a reintroduction to my community: the art of dinner! I love to cook so I made four cheese tortellini and sauteed spinach. The meal was delicious, as was the conversation. Then after dinner we retired to the patio to go through the book.

We are going through Eugene Peterson's "Leap Over a Wall" and we ended up talking about change. How we now view change as a disregard for the past and an all-out embrace of the new. Peterson, and we agreed, thinks that we need to recapture an earlier definition of change. Instead of erasing our wrinkles, we should embrace them. Change is good, but change is built upon the foundation of our pasts. It is not mere change, but growth (and because Matt pointed out that I tend to use the word a lot, I will say organic growth). We can and should use the dirt and crap of our pasts to fuel a new growth in Christ (not to say we should be adding dirt and crap, but let Christ redeem that which is already there). If we simply "move on" without looking back or stopping to contemplate, we will be like a tumbleweed; always moving with the wind, and hollow on the inside.

All this to say that it is nice to be back.

josh