I’ve not read Thomas Wolfe’s final, posthumous novel with the above title. But I’ve known the truth in that statement in multiple ways over the course of my life. Coming to grips with the inevitability of change and transition – whether you want it or not – is a constant process. The past remains always and only what it was, and while we might notice or view it differently, like turning a gemstone in your fingers and seeing different facets, it is both unchangeable and inaccessible. And the moments spent trying to find a way to undo that reality are already crystalized themselves into a more current past.
So there’s a bittersweetness in being back in the place we called home for nearly eleven years. Where our kids grew up. Where we were welcomed into a church community and then eventually said goodbye to those friends. It’s strange driving streets that remain very familiar years later and thousands and thousands of miles apart. The beauty is breathtaking. But for me especially, the beauty is haunted. Nearly every street I drive down brings back memories. Faces. Hands held. Words of whispered or shouted prayer. So-and-so used to live here. So many of those ghosts peeking out amidst the dappled shadows of tree-lined streets.
Today we were blessed to visit my former parish, Emanuel Lutheran, Santa Barbara. I’m grateful to their pastor, Rev. Paul Wenz, for always extending a gracious welcome to us when when we come back. And walking into the parish hall, driving through the parking lot, breathing once again the familiar traces of floor wax or kitchen cleanser, suddenly the communion of the saints takes on a more palpable reality once again. We are never alone, but sometimes that reality is better perceived than others.
We shared about our lives and work over the past five years. Enjoyed amazing and delicious local food, smiled and laughed and hugged. Dear friends still. A tinge of sorrow over the loss of what once was, but gratitude as well for what once was. And joy to think that one day, there won’t be any more good byes, and we’ll enjoy once and for all a present that never fades into a sepia-toned past, and a future that never causes us to wince in uncertainty.
The Nelson Family Indonesia 