Jerusalem

I have never had a blog before. Generally, I try to stay away from what my friend Read calls "technologies of absence" -- those bastions of progress that connect us with the world in a more quantifiable (like my 3000 followers on Twitter) but less profound way than ever before. They are technologies that we justify having by convincing ourselves that they allow us to stay in touch with old friends and people we would never actually call, or (and I shudder even thinking of this possibility) talk to in person. Hey, did you see what Susie what's-her-face from that summer camp we went to fourteen years ago updated her Facebook status to the other day? Truly shocking stuff. And all the while we pride ourselves on collecting pseudo-friends while we avoid real relationships.

Also, I don't care. It's not that I don't care about people -- at least, I try to love and care about the people God has placed in my life -- it's more that I don't care about looking at pictures and checking my wall posts and seeing who my followers are and God knows what else. I often tell people that if I did have a Facebook profile it would actually stress me out more than anything else. I would undoubtedly forget about it for months on end only to remember that my message inbox must be full by now, then check only to discover that none of my 6000 friends actually messaged me, which would make me feel inadequate yet somehow more narcissistic than ever before. That sentence makes sense to me at least.

Now, dear reader (if you do exist -- Kels assures me you do), you might say that this is a cynical view of social media and a hypocritical one at that given the fact that I am laying this mini-manifesto out by way of a blog post. And you would probably be right on both counts. Know that I do not condemn you for having a Facebook account (wife). But I felt like I had to justify my own being here, to Kels and to myself if not to anyone else. We love our families and our friends and as we enter this new chapter in our lives, face-to-face communication will sadly be impossible for the most part. So here I am.

And I guess that brings me to where I am now, sitting in a bedroom at my parents' house in Peachtree City, Georgia (every bit as southern as it sounds), anticipating the next significant change for Kels, Charis, and I. In four days, we move to Jerusalem. As we have prayed, thought, and struggled through many things in the first 18 months of our marriage, sitting here now I feel like it was all leading up to this point. We are moving to Israel. Is that really true? We are moving to Israel. We are moving to Israel. I think I believe it.

I am so looking forward to being a student again and working towards our future. Kels is so looking forward to continuing to grow as a mom and as a wife, and she keeps impressing me more each day in her ability to do something she has never done before. But I think more than anything we are looking forward to just living, just being in Jerusalem. Seriously, how many people can say that they have truly immersed themselves in the land of the Bible, that they were able to call that land home even if only for a short period of time? We will be able to say so. I pray that does not come off as a boast, because we are incredibly humbled by this opportunity we have been given. And, honestly, just excited -- this is going to be very, very cool. I truly believe with all my heart that the Lord has called us to his land, and despite all the challenges we have faced already and despite those which we will face in the future (um, we're moving in four days and we still don't have a place to live), we are at peace.

For any of you wondering what on earth we are thinking, and there are probably quite a few of you, I ask that you would pray for us and for all those issues popping into your head that tell you it doesn't make sense for us to do what we are doing. As much fun as I believe these next couple years will be, they will be hard. We are moving to a culture we know little about with a six-month old baby and very few friends or even acquaintances. So please pray for us.

And for those of you who have given us your constant love and support and encouragement as we have gone through everything leading up to this point, please keep praying for us as well. I can't tell you what our family and friends in Oregon, Illinois, Tennessee, Georgia, Ohio, Colorado, and North Carolina (oh, you know who you all are) have meant to us over these past couple years, but we love you all and will continue to lean on you to encourage us in the good times and support us in the tough times.

I've said enough for now. We'll talk to you all from the other side of the world.



If God is for us, who can be against us? (Romans 8.31b)