Redemption

I've long believed that you make a life for yourself wherever you go. Life is a moveable feast, and every place offers things to celebrate and enjoy. In Oklahoma, I loved the grassy, windswept plains, but I hated the conservatism. In Africa, I loved the steaming rainforests, but I hated being unable to disappear into the crowd. Every place has its charms and its drawbacks, and you can find ways to lead a meaningful, pleasant existence no matter where you live.

Of course, there are places like Fallujah where life is just hell for everyone. But for the most part, life is what you make of it, and the place where you choose to live is pretty much just the backdrop.

And yet, I have loved living here in the Wilds of Northern Pennsylvania. I've loved it so much because the forests and hills have been more than "the setting" for my life; they've been a character in the drama. I am leaving here a calmer, wiser, happier man than I was when I came. And for that, I'm grateful.

I look forward to the next phase of life with eager anticipation. Last Friday and Saturday, we were at the new house near Pittsburgh to mow the lawn and paint. I've never "owned" property before. There was something very empowering to know that I was mowing a lawn that belonged to me and painting my walls the colors I had chosen.

I'll enjoy life in the Pittsburgh area. We've bought a Civil War-era brick farmhouse, fully restored, and I've claimed one of the outbuildings as my private escape: the old smokehouse with its huge walk-in fireplace. There's good hiking within a forty-five minute drive, at Raccoon Creek State Park and Hillman State Park. I love my new church, too. Heck, my new office even has an executive washroom!

But I will miss this place. I'll miss these people. I'll miss the streams, and the hemlocks, and the boulders. I'll miss the snow and the way the leaves start to change colors as early as mid-August. I'll miss the way they used to run their raucous firetrucks up and down the main street whenever the local team won a sporting event. (Okay...maybe I won't miss that.) I'll miss being a medium size fish in a small pond.

More than anything else, I'll miss the fact that there's forest in every single direction from here, and all of it worth discovering. I'll miss being surrounded by the Unknown, full of beauty and adventure. I'll miss knowing, each time I step out into the woods for my Sunday afternoon trek, that I'll discover something I've never seen before, something I'll surely never see again, since there's just so much else to explore.

Living here has transformed me in ways that I cannot confide to the Internet. These wooded hills, these steep valleys, these rocky streambeds with their abandoned town sites and their rusting derricks; these things have given me a whole new sense for life. I'm leaving, yes. But I'm leaving with a new joy for living, determined to drink from these deep, life-sustaining wells wherever my path leads. I'm leaving here...redeemed.