The ache of place

Last updated on: May 18, 2011 at 12:01 am by michaboyett

The ache of place 2011-05-18T00:01:05-07:00 michaboyett

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

The idea of PLACE sort of blows my mind sometimes. That’s probably a weirdly deep thing to say, like when I say about babies, “It’s so crazy how they don’t exist and then nine months later, they’re, like, a person!!!” Yeah, duh.

(But, doesn’t the baby thing confound you sometimes? The perfection of little fingers and how my milk–that I don’t even know how to make in my head but my body does!–is all T-Rexy needs to have to his life sustained? It’s remarkable.)

That’s how I feel about place. How is it that so many people I love can live far from me? How is it possible that I have spent my life in very separate places and I can’t seem to push them together no matter how much I squeeze them. Syracuse will not sit next to Abilene on any map ever. San Francisco and Philadelphia will always be thousands of miles away from each other.

And yet, my husband can get on a flight on Sunday night, show up in New York on Monday morning, attend a couple of meetings, eat meals with his dad and our dear friend Ray, and somehow show back up at our house in time for dinner and bedtime Tuesday night. It’s extraordinary. And it’s confusing.

We ache for the friends and family we’ve left in every city we’ve touched our feet in, shopped for groceries in, wrote rent checks in, played football with friends in. Each place holds sweetness and ache and prayer.

Sometimes I can’t imagine how separate they all are from one another. How each place we’ve left has remained living, lives going on without us…

Last Friday night the girls I met during their 8th grade year at Radnor Middle School attended their Senior Prom. They were stunning, beautiful. (I know because Cat, who now leads the Young Life ministry I left behind in Philly, texted me pictures of them with their dates.) I sat rocking my baby during August’s naptime and quietly stared at those faces I love. I can’t be there. And, honestly, I believe God has blessed my absence.

But, for all the sweetness of building a new community, there’s the loss of the community I once helped build. I feel it often. And I’m feeling it tonight.

So I ask the question again: What does it mean to be committed to stability, when place is shifty and (painfully!) stuck in the same spot on the map as it always was?

the Praying Life

present moment

stability

Previous Post

May 17, 2011

Community Thankful

Next Post

May 20, 2011 A Bigger Story

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category A Deeper Church Beautiful Beautiful and Broken Books Broken Deeper Story Family and the Christian Year Family Life Found Friends Guest Post Invitation Motherhood My Chalkboard One Good Phrase Pinterest Place and Stability Poetry Practicing Benedict Thankful Tuesday The Daily The Mama Monk the Praying Life The Pursuit of Enough This Sacred Everyday Uncategorized Vlog Women and the Church World Vision

Select a Month March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Which disciple brought his brother to Jesus, saying, 'We have found the Messiah'?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Peter John James Andrew