OK, so maybe starting with goodbye seems like a strange way to launch a blog. After all, to most of us, goodbye is where things end, not where they begin. Many of us think of goodbyes as painful, difficult, something we'd rather not say. In fact, we often say, "I'm not going to say 'goodbye', but 'until I see you again'," or some such thing. We try to find a nicer way to end things. To make our separation more pretty, less permanent.
But, I have come to embrace goodbye.
It was only a matter of weeks ago that I said many goodbyes to friends, to family, and to people in our community that I'd grown to know and love and trust. I had to say goodbye to new challenges I was looking forward to, and to all things familiar and comfortable and... well...home.
We were on the move. Again. Our third move in five years--with three school-aged kids in tow. Admittedly, some people have moved more in one year than we have in a lifetime. For others-- who have been raised in the same place, and are raising their children there, too-- moving as often as we have makes us seem like nomads drifting in the wind who never land for long.
For us, it just WAS.
At first, I couldn't explain exactly what was different about this move than the others. Somehow I found myself going more willingly. Not that I wanted to get away from where I was. Not at all. In fact, I'd grown to love it there. Still. There was a peace in this transition that made the move more seamless. Something was bridging the gap and making things easier. Something deep within was telling me that all would be well. And I trusted it. And I followed it. And I knew it would be OK.
I was not born knowing this. (Or maybe I was born knowing it, but I quickly forgot, because somehow when I come to realize these things, they feel like deja vu). Even so, I have come to know that God is with us--the God of all of us--no matter what your religion, or your beliefs. He is the fire within us, and he is the water that gives us life. He is every bit as real as the breaths we take, and yet, his presence is as easy to overlook as a gentle breeze on our face.
How I came to know him (or her, if that's how you see things), and how I continue to follow him, will be a great deal of what this blog will be about. He is now so much a part of my story that I couldn't start without him.
Which is why I start with goodbye.
You see, I learned recently that the word goodbye originally meant "God-be-with-you." Saying goodbye, as Joyce Rupp wrote in her book Praying Our Goodbyes, "was a recognition that God was a significant part of the going. When you dreaded or feared the journey there was strength in remembering that the One who gave and cherished life would be there to protect and console." Unfortunately, over time, this meaning has been lost. Until now.
Now, knowing the original meaning of the word makes me want to try to transform goodbye into a word like aloha: a single word that could wish God to be with you when I meet you, as well as when we part.
But even if it never catches on, for me, finding this word's original meaning suddenly made the peace I was feeling make a lot more sense. It was easier to say goodbye this time, because in it, I was wishing everyone that God be with them. And they were wishing him to be with me, too.
To be sure, sharing goodbyes with so many people we know and love--even in its original meaning-- doesn't make starting over (again) easy. But it does mean we have everything we need to endure it. Make no mistake, our prayers for patience and courage are every bit as important for us to pack up and bring with us as the furniture, the photos, and the dinner plates. We need them all as we begin anew.
But mostly, we need all those who love us, to say goodbye.
We were on the move. Again. Our third move in five years--with three school-aged kids in tow. Admittedly, some people have moved more in one year than we have in a lifetime. For others-- who have been raised in the same place, and are raising their children there, too-- moving as often as we have makes us seem like nomads drifting in the wind who never land for long.
For us, it just WAS.
At first, I couldn't explain exactly what was different about this move than the others. Somehow I found myself going more willingly. Not that I wanted to get away from where I was. Not at all. In fact, I'd grown to love it there. Still. There was a peace in this transition that made the move more seamless. Something was bridging the gap and making things easier. Something deep within was telling me that all would be well. And I trusted it. And I followed it. And I knew it would be OK.
I was not born knowing this. (Or maybe I was born knowing it, but I quickly forgot, because somehow when I come to realize these things, they feel like deja vu). Even so, I have come to know that God is with us--the God of all of us--no matter what your religion, or your beliefs. He is the fire within us, and he is the water that gives us life. He is every bit as real as the breaths we take, and yet, his presence is as easy to overlook as a gentle breeze on our face.
How I came to know him (or her, if that's how you see things), and how I continue to follow him, will be a great deal of what this blog will be about. He is now so much a part of my story that I couldn't start without him.
Which is why I start with goodbye.
You see, I learned recently that the word goodbye originally meant "God-be-with-you." Saying goodbye, as Joyce Rupp wrote in her book Praying Our Goodbyes, "was a recognition that God was a significant part of the going. When you dreaded or feared the journey there was strength in remembering that the One who gave and cherished life would be there to protect and console." Unfortunately, over time, this meaning has been lost. Until now.
Now, knowing the original meaning of the word makes me want to try to transform goodbye into a word like aloha: a single word that could wish God to be with you when I meet you, as well as when we part.
But even if it never catches on, for me, finding this word's original meaning suddenly made the peace I was feeling make a lot more sense. It was easier to say goodbye this time, because in it, I was wishing everyone that God be with them. And they were wishing him to be with me, too.
To be sure, sharing goodbyes with so many people we know and love--even in its original meaning-- doesn't make starting over (again) easy. But it does mean we have everything we need to endure it. Make no mistake, our prayers for patience and courage are every bit as important for us to pack up and bring with us as the furniture, the photos, and the dinner plates. We need them all as we begin anew.
But mostly, we need all those who love us, to say goodbye.
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