My utmost apologies for those that were anticipating this blog to be a continuation of “When Life Becomes Legend.” I will be putting out part 2 soon. I am currently trying to figure out precise formatting and vocabulary for it.

I spent last week with my parents. This might seem like a mundane statement, but I like to think it is profound. The profound nature of the statement comes from the notion that a child could ever leave those who brought it into the world.

Can anyone truly leave parents behind?

I am currently wrapping up the 23rd year of my life, and many years of it were spent following my parents around.

See, they gave birth to me in Texas, and I had no choice to follow them for the first 18 years of my life. This meant following them from Terrant County Hospital to our little house on Lakedrive, and then six years later following them to 302 Domingo (yea, I just looked it up on google maps… the grass is still as brown as it always was. Unfortunately the large Pecan tree is no longer in the front yard). 

Life took a sharp twist though in January of 1997, when I had to follow my parents up to Sturgis, MI. We stayed there for a while. In fact, My parents are still staying there (go visit them… well, their business at least http://www.lostnationarchery.com). It took me six years to go somewhere without following either of my parents, and that was when I went to Nicaragua to help build a church… but I still returned to Sturgis.

In the years since graduating high school I have been all over the states, and even to a few places in Europe. But no matter what, I always return to Sturgis.

Why?

Ya see, I return to Sturgis because my heart is strongly attached to my parents and those who have helped turn me into the man I am today. When I return “home” I always visit with a few friends, watch a sporting event, go to church, and play some Ultimate Frisbee. Those are deeply ingrained into my life.

How so?

People are great, though profoundly perplex and frustrating at times. This makes deep relationships a needle in a haystack. But it is not as much an issue of compatibility as it is commitment that keeps friends close. I try to make genuine commitment and reliability a trademark in my life. My parent taught me this, and as I go to and fro Sturgis, every time I get to spend time with those people I have known for umpteen years, it strengthens my resolve to be genuine and committed to others.

I always cheer on an athletic event when I am home. I love sports, but more than that, I love those out there competing. Strangely enough, I often go to Centreville, MI rather than Sturgis when I go to an event now. Why? Because I spent a year there pouring into the youth. Those are the youth of St. Joseph County that I know, so those are the youth that I will encourage and love on.

But more than just loving sports, I go because people need encouragement. And if “people need” encouragement, adolescents desperately need it. To see a face in the stands that will smile at you no matter how you perform, and that will give you a high five afterwards even if you fall flat on your face, that means more than words can elaborate. It is simply priceless and important. If I can pour forth just a portion of the love that has been poured upon me, then I am humbled by the opportunity.

Frisbee defines how I view life: Run hard, but try to remember not to take it personally. Sometimes ya gotta go big or go home, other times make a simple drop pass and let someone else get the accolades. But in the end, it is not as much a matter of winning or losing, it is about playing hard, enjoying the time you have, and making sure those around you are also involved in the fun.

I know I have rambled on, and I know that very few (if that) even care. Nostalgia is setting in and I can hardly believe that I am looking at yet another place to live. Hopefully the next house I move into will be a longer residence than any of the previous ones since 2007. It seems like I have moved more times in the past six years than I ought to have. I’ve moved dorm rooms, moved from hostel to hostel, been in an RV, spent a summer in a cramped apartment in Chicago, and then nine months in a cousin’s basement.

I suppose that is the bachelor’s life.

But now, as I am an hour and a half from looking at a house to rent in Grand Rapids, I just hope that I do not forget to follow the principles that my parents instilled in my heart.

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