Missing Oregon and Oregonians

I’m painfully missing the Pacific Northwest today.

It was the first place I ever felt home.

I grew up with my dad in the Navy. So we would live somewhere for 18 months and get settled with new friends, a new school, new neighborhood and neighbors and right about the time I started to feel comfortable, we would move to another base.

People ask me where I’m from. I tell them I’m from America. Because I moved between Virginia Beach, Southeast Louisiana (where my dads family is all from), Northern California, North Alabama and Central Florida. Then, as an adult, after marrying Erika, we moved to North and South Carolina, then to KC, HI following the call of God (or something) and finally…..we crash landed into the Pacific Northwest after a half cocked DTS at YWAM.

Feeling sure that God would put us in some other nation to be missionaries, I was really lost when we landed in Oregon. (Side note: guys, please….it pronounced “Ore Again” not “O-re-gone” Trust me. We lived there for tenish years).

About ten years ago to the day we rolled up onto the front yard of our new friends in an old RV that one of our partners gave us, leaking black water and broken plans on their front yard. They were really kind, gracious and patient with us as we figured out what the heck we were doing with our lives. They become some of our best friends. Bryson Paris (👊🏻) Like our whole family were friends. It was awesome. I really miss having friends like them.

There’s something about Oregon and the people there that received us in our bruised state and spoke kindly to our confusion that made us feel…….home. The land is majestic and invites you to come out and rest in God’s creation. The people value authentic connection in a way that I’ve still yet to really experience anywhere.

There something about the long grey, rainy months of Western Oregon that create a value for warmth, togetherness, family, connection, craftiness and creativity. This felt like my land, my people, my way of life that I’d only just now discovered.

The temperature lives at hoodie weather for most of the year. I love hoodie weather. Sure, it’s grey a lot of the time. Seasonal affect disorder is a thing. True. But so are majestic forests, rivers, rainbows, mountains and happy lights and you can always drive under two hours through the pass and get to sunshine a lot of the time. After some getting used to, it turns into the perfect environment for certain types of creativity, exploration and connection.

I met some of my best friends in the world there. I miss you all terribly. 🖐🏼. I pray we get to return sooner than later. Time will tell. I pray it tells me something good in this regard.

I love you.

There’s something special about an Oregonian. They know how to sit with people. At least the ones I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. They value connection. Being with people, hearing people, doing life with people. It’s a characteristic that I find rare in places like FL and TX.

They understand the value of stopping.

The value of coffee. Not just the expert roasting, preparation and serving of good coffee…..they top the list there too, but the value of making time to have a cup of coffee with people just for the sake of connection.

I miss good coffee (Jesus please send help)

And

I miss good coffee (Jesus please send Marvelous Comrades.)

For our first 6 months of living back in Florida, most of our significant connections as a family were with Oregonians. The Forlines, The Schaefer fam, the Vilagi’s. There were some acceptions but most folks down here are understandably busy. They may indeed know how to stop. They may indeed know how to value a cup of coffee with folk but those things haven’t happened a ton.

My nostalgia also may be clouding things. So no offense or anything, my Florida peeps. I’m just having a moment here.

Where am I going with all this?

I don’t know. I’m just letting my heart talk about what it wants to today. The constant humid, dripping sweat that seems to be the constant companion of this season in Florida stands in contrast even to the heat in the PNW, which is drier and more bearable (As I remember it with these rose-colored glasses).

Help with mental health was easier to come by over there as well. It’s not easy here in Florida or Texas for that matter and I’m the kind of guy that needs a therapist and I haven’t had one in two years, since leaving Oregon. So perhaps this is taking the place of a long overdue session with a good therapist.

Facebook asked me what’s on my mind and apparently this is it.

I miss Oregon and my people.

I’m here in the free state of Florida and there’s some good to that. Knowing that another lóckdówñ isn’t likely to stick here is important.

Is it more important than being/feeling home?

Is that even a valid question?

I don’t know.

How Oregon acted in 2020 tore apart my mental health to where I needed recovery. The çømmüñîśtš that control the gövèrńméñt there leave me with little confidence that they won’t pull that again. I’m simply never submitting to that again. It’s not happening.

In some ways, I felt like I gave up, surrendered.

Staying and fighting didn’t feel like a valid option and I don’t know if would have survived waiting it out. I say that in all seriousness. It was in question. My head was doing some troubling things when all that went down.

The way Oregon was such a gift of recovery to my creativity and mental state and the sheer contrast of how it responded felt like the betrayal of someone close. Someone who had a hand in bringing so much vibrancy and healing being the culprit or at least part of the culprit of so much control, gàšłïghting and térrórïsm.

It set me in fight or flight. I knew my fight would get ugly, and we had an invite to Texas so we chose flight. I simultaneously regret and am thankful for that choice.

It’s hard to wrap my head around it.

What I do know is that we are in Florida now.

It does not feel like home and yet we own our home for the first time.

So feelings and reality aren’t always the same thing. I feel like I should have learned that by now. To hell with the shoulds. I’m in process. Grace grace.

It is where we believe God has lead us. I know that…..most days.

It doesn’t stop my heart from aching for the only place I’ve ever felt home.

I’m here right now. The here and now is where the goodness is. It can’t be found anywhere else.

It’s never in the past. The goodness is like the manna. Todays goodness is all we can really sink our teeth into. Yesterday’s goodness has past and though I appreciate it, it’s not accessible.

The future is mostly speculation. Speculation is gambling. Gambling is unsure.

So the here and now is where the goodness is.

I can choose to find the gold in our season.

The more I look, the more I see. It’s here.

I know people who really love Florida. I may need some helping in learning how to love this place…..I for sure need help. I’ve lived here for 12ish years before and never figured it out but the fact that other live it is evidence to me that it’s lovable.

Now the beach is another story altogether. I like it over there. Perhaps it’s time for another visit.

So I think it’s time to accept that, for now, Oregon is over for us. Not over forever. But over for now. It’s not home anymore. It changed. It’s time to accept that and set my heart free to make our home in Florida. It’ll be miraculous when my heart settles here but miracles happen all the time and I’m open to it.

I’m gonna keep working on this house until it becomes a home for us.