Stage at Cornwall Church, Bellingham WA
There is unsettledness about not being home, a gentle disquiet that lingers at the edges of the morning. I haven’t left yet, but I am already missing everyone, especially Kim.
The day started too early, needing to be at the airport by 5:15AM. Two puddle jumpers in the schedule to take me from Portland, OR, to Bellingham, WA, where I will speak twice tonight and twice tomorrow morning. The event is being held at Cornwall Church and the anticipated attendance each time is about 1,200.
First flight, sitting in the last row at the back of the airbus. Chris S sits down next to me, rugged looking unshaven 25 year-old, heading to Seattle with friends who are looking to possibly buy a 50-foot boat to sail back to Hawaii later this summer. He works for the International fish regulatory system and has spent the better part of the last five years hopping from one huge freezer ship to another, counting fish; Albacore, Blue Fin Tuna, Squid, Shark and many other assorted ocean denizens.
Chris tells me he spends as much as 300 days a year at sea, but has never been seasick once. He loves the ocean. I let him know that I had a near death experience getting seasick on the way out for a 10 hour Halibut trip off the coast of Oregon. Near death because I wanted to die; to slip over the rolling rails and drop under water where things had to be calmer. It was years ago and as we talk, I start to feel the edges of queasy. He shows me a video of working in 20-foot swells. That doesn’t help.
“How does this lifestyle affect your relationships?” I ask.
“It wreaks havoc on them,” he responds.
“Easy to run away.” It is more a statement than a question.
Chris laughs, a little sadly, “Way too easy.”
We land, part ways and I catch a 25-minute flight to Bellingham, WA, where Bob M picks me and takes me to coffee. We talk for two hours, about life, The Shack, plans for the day, that we both graduated the same college, both preachers’ kids with similar great sadness. It is a comfortable conversation peppered with lots of stories.
I move into my room at The Hampton Inn, simple and comfortable, iron a shirt, check the TV to see how Tiger is doing at the Masters – better than expected – and head to the lobby to meet relatives who are driving in from Yakima and the Seattle area. Aunt Bonnie on my dad’s side, along with kids and grandkids, all grown. As a child, I had a crush on her and refused to go to her wedding when she married Herb, who turned out to be a wonderful man despite my youthful antipathy. The last time we had seen them both was 2006 and a week later were stunned to hear that Herb had dropped dead. Some of these relatives I hadn’t seen in 20+ years and for a couple hours we talked family history and lots of theology. It was so good to visit.
I spoke at 4PM and again at about 6:30PM, signed books and hugged a lot of precious people until a little after 9PM, grabbed a salad to Red Robin and made it back to the hotel before 11PM.
Today I wore my ‘Pray for Luke’ (Jensen) shirt. I know Luke has severe setbacks recently and the fight goes on.
Todd and Erin Barr read The Shack shortly before Todd was diagnosed with cancer. Today, I received the following email: “Todd’s home, surrounded by and in the company of Papa, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.”
Today, he walked through the thin place leaving Erin and two small children. Erin, I am so sad with you, and so proud of you! If you want to read about this journey you can go to http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/toddbaar.
We simply can’t ‘imagine’ grace.
So today I flew, I talked, I laughed, I missed home, I didn’t feel good physically, I hugged, I prayed and I cried, dipping my toes into only a bit of the mysteries of grace and saddened by the sufferings of this world. It is not so much that there is evil in this world, the wonder is that there is any grace and beauty and goodness.
