Friends,

Summer is a weird time, especially for kids. When I was young the rhythm of school always felt so permanent. I knew who I sat next to during school, what friend I got to eat lunch with, and who my crew was during recess. Summer felt like I was drinking fun and freedom from a fire hose, and then school would start back up again, but it always felt so foreign in the beginning. You had to get used to a new teacher, classroom with a different desk layout, and new classmates that you would bond with, or sometimes learn to avoid. One of the things that bothered me is when people seemed to disappear. It’s a thing that families like - to move in the summer so they avoid disrupting a school year. This makes perfect sense, but it was disorienting from my perspective because some of my more casual friends would just sort of not be there from the previous year. I wasn’t close enough to be invited to the going away party, but I was close enough to miss their presence.

For whatever reason, this summer feels like a time of intense transition. In the past couple of months, we’ve had four military families move away as they take on a new positions, and the beloved Healy and Tucker families have or are preparing to move to their new home. The Healy’s will just be in Purcellville, so they’ll still be around, but I doubt I’ll run into Tom at the coffee shop as much.

Summer transitions go both ways, and we are also seeing a lot of new faces at our services. Military families are moving to the area and are trying us out, and others are making their way in at the invitation of a friend, or just choosing the summer as a time to try something new. I fully expect that we will see at least some of these people stick around to become part of the fabric that makes up our community of faith.

Right now, faces are missing because of vacations, or maybe just enjoying the extra sleep in the summer, but once the pumpkin patch takes over the grove, you may realize that that one family that sits a couple of pews behind you hasn’t come back. Things will look familiar in the most comforting sort of way, but they are always dynamic.

In grade school, noticing the kids that moved away over the summer was a profound thing, and then one summer, I was the kid that moved away. After that summer, I had a hard time fitting in in our new home in Georgia, and then as a college student and then as an adult I almost became too comfortable saying goodbye. I just simply got used to getting up and moving to college, then grad school, then new homes, to the point where it just felt normal. My last move was harder. One older couple told me that something that stuck with me. They said, “you start saying goodbye at hello” when I first met them, and I didn’t get it until they reminded me when I was leaving to come be with you.

Their point was, regardless of how long the relationship lasts, it will eventually end, so in an odd way, the whole thing is a prolonged farewell. As I write this, it sounds bleak, but if you knew them, you would know that was not the case. When you are aware that our goodbyes begin at hello, then you will never take the other person for granted.

Leandra and I plan on growing deep roots here. I hope there will be decades before the efficacy of my ministry wears off, and I’ll have to move on, but I will likely live the rest of my life in this neighborhood in our little white house. If you plan on sticking around too, you will likely not be done with me. Even though, we are still in the beginning of what will likely be the longest chapter of our lives, it is still dynamic, with wonderful people coming and going, and suddenly I regret ever becoming complacent with saying goodbye to those who shaped my life.

Whether it was graduations or moving around for career or family reasons, moving is a big deal and it should be treated as such. To those six families who moved away this summer, you matter a great deal to this place. God put us together for a reason, even if was just for a short season of our lives. While you were here, you helped make this place a bit better, and regardless of who you will become you will always be our brothers and sisters in Christ in this place.

Blessings,

Nick