The Long and Winding Road . . . or . . . Why I Miss Home

Guess where I went this weekend? This picture gives a clue:

After giving it a bit of thought, (refer to the title for yet another clue), scroll down to see.


















A Beatle's concert! Well, it was a tribute band, called "The Liverpool Legends", actually, but they were quite good, and looked and sounded just like the real thing. Since a real Beatle's concert is not an option, Misty, Shea, Emily and I gladly grabbed up the opportunity to don our go-go gear and get groovy with the Fab 4 (seen in Sgt Pepper regalia on the left). It was perfect that I should see this group on a day when I heard the song "Long and Winding Road", and felt quite sentimental to all things "home". (As did other people this weekend, so I read).

What is it that I miss so sorely? I like it here so much! I dearly love our new church, apartment, jobs, friends. . . and of course all the gorgeous eating establishments that Steak and Shake (the ONLY thing open after anything) just can't hold a candle to. It would be easy to say that I miss the kids, and my family (which is ever so TRUE), but I know that it is a bit more than that, in a way. And so thinking upon such things, I believe I have reached a conclusion.

I miss being known. Now, don't misunderstand me, I do not seek fame and popularity -- to be sure, that is a proud inclination of my sinful heart, but this is not what I mean by being known. I mean I miss walking up to people, addressing them simply and not needing a reason to talk with them. I mean shortly getting very real with people and openly discussing our hearts, our struggles, and our needs with one another. I mean grabbing a child who walks past me, hugging them, and knowing they want my undivided attention (which I WANT to give!).

Here is an example: I often speak of my job here (one of them), which I like a lot, chiefly because of my co-workers. However, I am not yet known to them, so it follows quite logically that I am often checked up on, not yet totally trusted. But Sunday night, I asked my former pastor if he'd gotten a phone call from my new boss about a character reference. Pastor Scott said "I gave him and earful. I told him if he didn't promote you, he was a moron!" I have never worked for Pastor Scott, either directly under him, or in a ministry with him. But he knows me, and gave a glowing review of me to my boss (which, I might add, was a terribly kind thing to do! I certainly don't deserve a glowing review!).

To my new friends that I have made here (here on the blogosphere, and here in the physical sense . . . and then there are those with whom I am friends in both senses!), I wish to be clear: in no way am I stating that I value your friendship less than you think. In fact, I prize the "knowing" that I think I have with you. There is just something special about the rest you find when you walk in and are surrounded by people you know and love. . . and they and know and love you too.

I'll leave you with a final picture of our groovy selves! Get back!