Today is moving day; moved into this house twenty-seven years ago. Five kids under the age of nine. New state, new church, new opportunities, new people. Our lives were all in front of us. I tried to remember what I thought life would be like looking ahead into the future. It is not surprising that what God unfolded was nothing like I had imagined.
Now twenty-seven years later I’m moving again. Only this time instead of moving with my wife and five children, it is only me. The Lord took Ruth home three years ago after a 3-½ year chapter entitled brain cancer. The kids are all grown and have their own homes and families. Twenty months ago I was also diagnosed with cancer. But, at least for now, the treatments have accomplished what was needed.
So, here I am. New, smaller house and this time just a new city, not a new state. Many good and wonderful friends in the Lord and yes, once again new opportunities. Only this time I have no illusions that I‘ll be around to do another twenty-seven year remembrance.
So, how do I measure twenty-seven years? There are many ways to do that, for sure. But, as I was thinking about that this morning, I remembered the oak trees. When we first moved here the previous owner had just planted some oak saplings. They did not even reach up to my waist and were not much thicker than a pencil. The picture of the trees with this post are those same oaks.
These oaks measure the passage of time as well as anything I can think of this morning, this last morning in this house with all of the memories and thoughts of twenty-seven years.
Three thousand years ago, David was also thinking about the passage of time. His words in Psalm 31 are good words for me to let sink deeply into my heart this day. I pray they will bless you as well.
But I trust in you, Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in your hands.