We spent last week in Georgia, speaking to a Christian high
school of about 250. For a first presentation it wasn’t bad, but I found it
difficult to communicate. There are so many ideas that have to be shown rather
than told. It was unrealistically discouraging that the students didn’t hang on
every word and beg to know more. Putting myself in their shoes, I would have
only remembered the flashy music slides, too.
However, the community was exceptional. Since Axis had
already spoken at the school, the administrators and teachers were extremely
welcoming and encouraging. I felt very at home.
The one problem I kept coming back to was the very community
I so enjoyed. There was no problem with the people; the problem was that I felt
that I could not have enough of an impact as a transient speaker. Don’t get me
wrong, speakers can have an incredible impact on an audience in a short amount
of time. Messages can be delivered at just the right moment to change a
person’s life forever. Tidbits of information or inspiration stick like coffee
stains in your favorite mug, adding color to your life in a way nothing else
could. There can be impact.
I just felt like the best way I could impact anyone would be
through settling down and doing life with them. Settling down is a foreign
concept to me, but the best moments seem to be at the very end of my stay
someplace, and that’s the closest I’ve come to settling.
But what would it mean to settle in one place? I believe in
the power of sustainability, but that requires… commitment. GASP! Committing? To live somewhere? For
an undetermined amount of time? Is it possible?
People do it all the time, or so I hear. It’s as common as
s’mores at a camp out, and yet I can’t help but wonder if I’ve ever really been
camping. One can camp without really camping, much like someone can settle
without actually settling.
To settle in a place is one thing, but the most important
factor is the people. Committing to a person or people is not a simple task. I
cannot pick where my home is. I can’t pick a place wherein I can pull into town
and know where the post office is. I can’t pick a place where I am known by
name and habit. I can’t pick a place to be welcome for Thanksgiving, Christmas,
and Easter without invitation but assumption. A home is a place to belong and
be known, but I fear that only comes with time and giving up a part of
yourself.
Am I willing to give up a part of myself to have a home, a
community, a role? Am I willing to give up the comfort and anonymity of
constant travel and relocation?
You are right, constant travel and relocation is comfortable. Anonymity is safe. That's why I didn't understand when people felt pity for me upon learning that I had moved so many times. It was safe to me. It was comforting. But it also meant when it was time for me to sit a while and let people in, I didn't know how. I've dealt with a lot of distrust on my part and I'm used to feeling safe in my isolation and independence. But now I can understand the pity; never to experience a place to call home, missing out on taking family and friends for granted (that is a privilege) is a pity. Someday perhaps... =)
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