Today I find myself at Pepperdine University, at the annual Bible Lectures. My family and I have been coming to the Lectures for over 20 years, with only a couple of breaks. It’s part learning, part Church of Christ family reunion, part vacation.
I graduated from this campus 19 years ago, and there is still a feeling of coming home when I visit. More and more, though, it’s feeling like a house I used to live in, with new residents who have no idea who I am. This year, it’s even more true, since several of the most familiar and dear faces are absent. Some folks are in the process of moving, some are very bogged down with work and family projects, a few have fallen ill at the moment, and others are traveling elsewhere. The first two familiar faces I saw on campus called me by the wrong name, which was a little unsettling. It feels a bit like the place has forgotten me.
On the other hand, there are many friends here, and some acquaintances I have made that I get to talk with once a year, here at the Lectures. Some people recognize my name and face from Worship Forum, and others I have met at the ZOE Group conferences. I’m also here with my wife and kids, and there are several folks from our church here. So it’s not as if I’m feeling lonely or abandoned.
I am a bit reflective, though, about the change in my identity over the years. I used to see myself as so much a part of the Pepperdine community. Now I still am, but only indirectly. I used to be identified as “Garey and Gerry’s son,” and I’m finding more places where they are identified as “Tim’s parents,” instead. I used to be just another member at our church, and now I’m enough of a loud mouth that some think of me as a leader there.
I suppose the point is that I never realized how long growing up was going to take. Wasn’t I supposed to be grown up by 21 or so, or at least by 30? Now I’m 41, almost 42, and am still getting a handle on being an adult.
My son, who is 9, was recently lamenting how much harder is life as a 4th grader is than it was when he was two or three years old, and wishing he could go back. I didn’t want to tell him that it only gets crazier as you get older. He’d probably curl up into a fetal position and start sucking his thumb. I know I sometimes want to.
If I did, though, I would be failing to value the things that God has taught me through my life, and would also not recognize the things that He has done with me over the past 41, almost 42, years. Growing up is His design, and I need to be more thankful for it than I am, sometimes. On balance, all the responsibilities I have to attend to are probably offset by all of the talents I have and skills I have developed by His grace.
Well, by those things, and by outgrowing zits.
I graduated from this campus 19 years ago, and there is still a feeling of coming home when I visit. More and more, though, it’s feeling like a house I used to live in, with new residents who have no idea who I am. This year, it’s even more true, since several of the most familiar and dear faces are absent. Some folks are in the process of moving, some are very bogged down with work and family projects, a few have fallen ill at the moment, and others are traveling elsewhere. The first two familiar faces I saw on campus called me by the wrong name, which was a little unsettling. It feels a bit like the place has forgotten me.
On the other hand, there are many friends here, and some acquaintances I have made that I get to talk with once a year, here at the Lectures. Some people recognize my name and face from Worship Forum, and others I have met at the ZOE Group conferences. I’m also here with my wife and kids, and there are several folks from our church here. So it’s not as if I’m feeling lonely or abandoned.
I am a bit reflective, though, about the change in my identity over the years. I used to see myself as so much a part of the Pepperdine community. Now I still am, but only indirectly. I used to be identified as “Garey and Gerry’s son,” and I’m finding more places where they are identified as “Tim’s parents,” instead. I used to be just another member at our church, and now I’m enough of a loud mouth that some think of me as a leader there.
I suppose the point is that I never realized how long growing up was going to take. Wasn’t I supposed to be grown up by 21 or so, or at least by 30? Now I’m 41, almost 42, and am still getting a handle on being an adult.
My son, who is 9, was recently lamenting how much harder is life as a 4th grader is than it was when he was two or three years old, and wishing he could go back. I didn’t want to tell him that it only gets crazier as you get older. He’d probably curl up into a fetal position and start sucking his thumb. I know I sometimes want to.
If I did, though, I would be failing to value the things that God has taught me through my life, and would also not recognize the things that He has done with me over the past 41, almost 42, years. Growing up is His design, and I need to be more thankful for it than I am, sometimes. On balance, all the responsibilities I have to attend to are probably offset by all of the talents I have and skills I have developed by His grace.
Well, by those things, and by outgrowing zits.
3 comments:
That was a very inspiring and comforting thought, Tom. I hope our paths cross sometime soon! ;)
i
It was great seeing you and Nina there, Tim. I hope we get the chance to meet up again at the next Zoe Fresno (or even sooner!).
At least you don't have zits (!)
One of these days we'll sing together again on the bleachers in the fieldhouse my friend!
x
Carrie (Young) Hall
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