Can you go home again?

Today, I returned to the Castle to hear a wonderful speaker discuss Lenten and Easter Bible texts. In addition to learning a great deal and appreciating his take on the texts, I was able to see a few former profs and a number of former classmates. Yeah! It was so great to see everyone and to pick up where we left off. I shared a laugh with the gal who taught me about the concept of Midwest Nice, hugged a friend who just received a call, hugged another whose ordination I missed, and caught up with others as we shared our experiences of driving over that familiar Wisconsin bridge near the Castle.

For two of us, it was our first time back since ordination. We both got lumps in our throats as we drew near, wistful and full of yearning for what used to be while not wanting to give up what is now. I found that as I neared the bridge, I was singing a little louder (Queen Greatest Hits... awesome car music), had more energy than I'd had in a month, and felt filled with hope and joy. It struck me how my lower energy level this past month has been a sign of an ongoing grief.

As I drove across the bridge, the sight of the frozen, snow covered Mississippi River whispered home - a word I never would have thought I'd associate with the Castle land when I arrived there 4+ years ago. For sure, it was not the home - not my beloved Portland - but it was another experience of home, a familiar dwelling place with memories of ups and downs, challenges and celebrations, joy and pain. It's a place where I know the shortcuts, the phone numbers, and the best restaurants. I know how long it takes to get from one end of town to the other and everywhere in between.

After the conference, I had an appointment and then a list of errands to run. A part of me wasn't quite ready to leave once the errands were complete. The drive home, at 7 p.m., was dark and a bit heavier than the bright, hope-filled drive there. With a sense of assured resignation, I pulled into the driveway, no longer singing loudly, no longer energetic, no longer beaming. Yet I knew that at some point down the road, Jerusalem too will become home in its own way and time.