Of Muscle Cars and Lone Stars

So it’s probably not news to anyone by now, but we’re moving back to Texas. Maybe at some point I’ll take the time to tell the story that precipitated this move at this time, but not tonight. For now it’s sufficient to say that we’re sure that we’re doing the right thing. We’re not running from anything, which is nice. We’ve had days here when we’ve wanted to run from certain things, but we didn’t. We’re glad. Our time in Pennsylvania has been no accident. No mistake. It was a season of purpose populated by wonderful people and a fair number of knuckleheads. But now it’s time to go.

This all unfolded pretty quickly, and it wasn’t really possible for me to feel much excitement at first. It’s not that I was unhappy, I was just overwhelmed by the weight of the decisions and the craziness that accompanied the decisions. Once the decision was made to move, the first thing I began to feel was relief. I’m telling the truth when I say we’re not running from anything here, but there are some circumstances in our lives here that we’ll be relieved from when we move. Nothing terribly tragic or oppressive, but the kind of stuff that weighs you down after a while. Even where there’s the sadness of departure, there’s also relief. I feel relieved. But then relief began to become something else.

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