Getting Loose

Shining Light

   Pastoring a church is a lot like trying to mow  10 acres of grass.  You never get finished.  There is always far more to do than you can possibly do, and you just come to a stopping point, quit for the day, and pick back up the next.  All sorts of ideas and projects swirl through your head.  I still have not fully moved in to my office.  Lots of stuff is still in boxes.  I look at it and think I've got to get them unpacked, but then there are so many other pressing things that need to be done other than tidying up my junk and stuff.

   I am soooo glad I know Hebrew and Greek . . . let me qualify that . . .  I am sooo glad I can translate them.  I've gotten more ideas from the original languages than I ever got out of some commentary.  Hebrew is a picture language.  It is saturated with images and ideas, even though there are far fewer words in Hebrew than there are in Greek.

   For those of you who are worried about the house next door, the other night I saw a light on inside.  Someone was there.  I'm not sure how you handle a house that has had peligro  posted all over it.  I have met the new neighbor who bought the house.  She seems quiet, a little laid back.  It will be interesting to see how all of this goes.

   Sort of seems like maybe I should quote the Bible here or something, but I'll try to get loose from that temptation.

Gone

   I can't believe that the house next door has such a hold on me.  You'd think I was obsessed.  But the tent is gone.  However, there is still a peligro sign on the garage.  It must have been some pretty nasty chemicals they used to kill whatever it was.  I think I'd be leery of going inside.  It's kind of weird.  Neighbors gone, house fumigated, house shut up.

Next Door Continued

   Well, the neighbors are gone to be sure.  But as I was walking home, I caught sight of a cardinal and gold color tent looking thing by their driveway.  At first, I thought, "A circus . . . the new owner is celebrating their new home."  And as I got closer I saw that this "tent" was covering the entire driveway, and then as I got closer, I realized it was over the front of the garage.  And as I got closer I saw that it was covering the entire house.  It looked as if it were custom made for that home.  But the onliest thing is that there was no opening to the tent.  There were "peligro" signs all over it.  In English it said, "Deadly poison."  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  I gather it must be some kind of a deadly fumigating process to kill whatever insects were resident there.

Left Behind

   Our next door neighbors have moved.  I didn't know them all that well.  To me they were friendly and all.  But now they are gone.  Gone to Tennessee.  And I am left behind.  I look over at their house, and it is dark.  I never could really see through their windows (as if I wanted to).  But now they are gone.  It seems strange, somehow.  Don't get me wrong, I like where I am.  But they are gone, and I am here.  I've been to Tennessee.  There's some good people there.  I have relatives there.  But my neighbor's house is dark.  It seems strange, somehow.  I guess that I realize the missed opportunities at connection, at fellowship, of give and take, of sharing our stories.  I mean I knew their names.  I said "Hi" to them.  I waved to them when we'd pass.  I got phones calls from them.  It wasn't like there was a brick wall between us or something.  But they've moved.  Life Changes.  And I'm left behind.