In May of 2009, Sean and I had survived the first year of being married and were working through what changes we would be making as he resigned his first teaching position. We had lived in a tiny town in Kansas for just one school year, and staying was not an option. With no other good options coming up, grad school beckoned and over the summer we moved to Wichita.
Me and my high school diploma hadn’t settled into any kind of long-term career, and it wasn’t long before I got bored and decided to get a job.
Friends that had been in my life since I was a child were living there and offered me an opportunity to apply for an administrative position supporting mental health professionals. It seemed like an intriguing proposition since I had always thought maybe I would consider something in this field when I grew up. So, I went for an interview with the director.
I got that job. And I worked there until it was no longer an option. I learned a lot… about the church, the industry, people… myself. In a little over two years, I grew in that place in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined.
The director there had two sons that appeared in the office from time to time. Two little boys that I couldn’t imagine ever identifying with or knowing beyond deep down, wishing I’d had the cushy life they had been born into.
It’s so easy to write someone else’s story when you don’t know them.
Life changed, the church churched, and the job was no more. A number of the professionals there moved on to different things, that director included. And I assumed that would be the end of that. Those boys would live their life of ease, and someday I might see them on social media jet setting and comfortable.
It’s been almost 14 years since I met these kids. I don’t even recognize the me I was then… I certainly wouldn’t know them if not for all the life that the time between has held.
Today, I’m watching one of them graduate from high school. The tiny kid that used to hide in his dad’s office is this amazing young man who has worked hard, grown up and is seeing the fruits of his efforts today. Over the years, I’ve seen him become such a kind, gentle, loving, smart, funny human being. He is fun to play games with, hilarious to have a conversation with and dives into fun with my kids regardless of the age difference.
I’m so thankful that family trees have such tremendous capacity for growth, that seasons can change, and new things can blossom in spring on branches we might have thought were dead in the winter…
I’m blessed to see that there is health growing in places that have long laid dormant. It’s life-giving to see these next generations being given different roots.
In the midst of what feels like constant change, this reality gives me hope. Stormy skies or beautiful blue ones… intentionally choosing love puts down lasting roots.
You never know which acquaintances will turn to friends, and which friends today will be family tomorrow. What could it hurt to just love them all now?
