Some sadness

I’m writing this from St. Louis Missouri where I’m working with the security team for the 2009 Urbana Student Missions Conference.  Cricon (Crisis Consulting International) has handled security for this conference since 1993.  We have fourteen on our team, most of them current or former law enforcement – so I’m one of the only ones not carrying a weapon.  Actually, in all the years CCI has been running security for this conference they have never needed to draw a weapon.  I was talking to a couple of the guys on the security team and I made the remark that in any other crowd of 17,000 people we would have multiple incidents each session (fights, drunken disorderliness etc); it’s a testimony to the Lord’s presence here that the conference runs so smoothly.  Each night after the last session we divide into teams to patrol the routes that the participants walk to get back to their hotels, just to be sure they make it safely.  Last night one of our teams was flagged down by some of the students who were concerned about a woman who was "sick" and needed help.  She was sick alright... and stone drunk.  The guys took away her car keys (she wasn't from the conference) and stayed with her until the Saint Louis cops arrived to take over.

Being here has been a strange experience for me.  I was just attending a seminar called “Islamic Terrorism – How Shall We Then Live?”   As I was listening to the speaker describe the current situation in the Middle East, I was surprised by the feelings of grief that welled up in my heart that we are no longer involved in NAMESTAN.  I thought to myself “I could be teaching this seminar” – not in a prideful way, but it felt strange to be present as a member of the security team and not one of those involved in running the seminars.  I don’t doubt the Lord’s leading for us to return to the States, but it is still a hard reality for me to emotionally accept that in our “new life” here I have no status or recognition.  There are aspects of being known only for who we are and not what we do that are both refreshing and encouraging.  But I guess I wasn’t expecting the feelings of sadness that well up from time to time.  I’ve watched our girls as they have been navigating the waters of reverse culture shock, thinking that I had managed to remain unscathed by all our transitions.  I was wrong.  I love Colorado, and we love living in the mountains  - that’s not the issue.  I guess these are some of the harder realities that come with a mid-career change.

    



About a week before Christmas we joined our friend Kathy for some Cowboy Caroling down the hill in the town of Golden.  We thought it was an annual event, but we found out later that this was the first time they tried it  - no wonder the neighbors were so surprised to see a bunch of singing cowboys and cowgirls show up in front of their homes!  It was a lot of fun, and the singing wasn’t half bad for a bunch of people who had never practiced singing together.  There weren’t enough horses for all the singers, so Daphne took pictures while I rang the doorbells.  There was even a Christmas parrot that joined the parade.  A few days later Jacqueline and I went ice-skating on Evergreen lake – our first time to skate on anything but an ice-rink where there are walls to hold on to.  Actually, we found out it was easier to skate BECAUSE there were no walls to hold on to.  Of course, the bruise on my left hip will remain with me as a reminder that I am still not a competent skater, but it was worth it to have time with Jacqueline.