Bitter and sweet, but mostly sweet.
I want to capture it. I want to hold it in my hands and heart. I want to linger in it. And then I want to transfer it to paper. And make it sound beautiful. Because it is.
It is beautiful.
And it is bittersweet, like dark chocolate. Delicate and rich. Something you want to savor.
It is like graduation. Full of memories and reasons to celebrate. Tinged with sadness as you say see-you-later, not knowing when later will come. And laced with hope. Yes, so much hope. More sweet than bitter, but definitely a little bitter.
And it is like a great movie. One that inspires and uplifts, but leaves you with a trace of sadness or longing. One that you keep talking about for years because it has impressed you with its authenticity and message.
And it is very hard to capture, that’s for sure. Kind of like trying to chase your own shadow or run to the moon.
I’ve tried.
Parts of it are sitting in my draft box, not yet ready to publish because I am afraid they will not sufficiently express my feelings. Other parts are flooding my mind and my heart.
No matter what I write or what I say, I will not capture all of it. But I think that is okay. Perhaps it is meant to be savored and celebrated but also respected in a way that only silence can communicate. You know, like the way a best friend or partner looks at you and they need not say anything at all? You already know.
For me, it is twenty-one years of community. It is relationships I will cherish forever. It is living through seasons of life together. Seasons of joy and seasons of sorrow. Seasons of tears and seasons of laughter. Seasons of growth and seasons of pain.
It is listening to my favorite old man speaking words of truth and wisdom to friends and acquaintances. It is big hugs and smiles every Sunday. It is watching my brothers draw masterpieces on the bulletin while I doodle my initials.
It is gathering in sanctuaries, basements, living rooms, parks and coffee shops with people I love. It is conversations about life and God. It is asking questions together. It is learning about Jesus and grace. It is discovering who I am and who I am created to be.
It is showing up to church wearing a soccer uniform and flip flops, sitting in the back row so mom and I can sneak out during the last hymn [if we wait, we’ll get roped into a conversation and I’ll be late for my game].
It is hide-and-go-seek in the corners of every room in the big building on Compton Road. It is a weird game with marshmallows, toothpicks and good friends.
It is reaching out to communities near and far. It is practicing spanish and building prayer trails in Nicaragua. It is painting walls in the local schools and it is hanging out with kids in the Dominican Republic.
It is meeting some of the most incredible people – artists, musicians, writers, lawyers, teachers, mentors and even bare-footed worship leaders – and learning that they are fans of me.
It is tea parties with women of all generations. It is candlelit prayers and songs. It is staying up late on Christmas Eve to share stories, hugs and laughs.
It is breaking bread with friends. It is sharing peace and hope.
It is beautiful and it is love.
It is also saying see-you-later. It is celebratory and it is tender. It is recalling old memories and making new ones. It is bitter and it is sweet, but mostly sweet.
And it is hard to capture. So I pause here. And here is where I look you, Northminster Presbyterian Church, in the eyes. And you already know.
So beautifully said. So many great memories. I grew up at NmPC. Both of my parents were blessed to be sent off to heaven from that church. We were blessed to have your Dad officiate my father’s funeral. Bill and I were married there. We were blessed to be friends with your family, and having you as one of my daughters best friends. Getting to share soccer games, girl scouts, having your mom tackle me in a game of “touch” football lol, playing soccer with your mom. I’m sure you and Randi were very amused at those games. Love that I can keep up with you on Facebook. You are one of my daughters from a different mother. God bless the Hosmers. And yes, it is see you later.
Aw, thank you Jan! So many great memories with you guys!
Rachel,
It’s been my pleasure to watch you, and your brothers, grow up. I remember well when you all first arrived and we had you in our home, we knew we were going to have some fun, as well as serious times together. God blessed us with your family and now we send Mom and Dad to a new ministry, and pray that you and your husband, David and his wife, and Jordan and his intended? will find your own ways to serve the Lord in your lives. Thanks, V.J.
Thank you V.J.!
Beautiful Rachel. Don’ t how it could be expressed better than that! Except maybe by that favorite old man of yours whom we will listen to one last time this Sunday. As my family is growing in NmPC like you and your brothers have, this was a reminder of the memories, Foundation, garden created and tended to every week.
Thank you Sara!
Rachel,
Thank you for your beautiful words; you have inherited your father’s ability with
expression. I am one of the lucky ones, being part of the congregation that Jeff and Bobbi are joining. I was on the PNC and felt so privileged to have the chance to work to bring them to North Lake. Once we read his beautiful statement of faith and his description of the church to which he was called, we just knew that he was the one to lead us in the coming years.
Your memories reinforce the concept of what we are expecting: love, family and
Christian devotion. You were so fortunate to grow up in such a special church and
in such a special church family. May Northminster continue to flourish under new
leadership and may the Hosmer spirit continue to shine in the memories of your
beloved congregation.
Blessings, Judy
Thank you Judy! It’s wonderful to hear from you and I hope to meet you when I come to visit them. You’re right — I am extremely fortunate to have grown up in such a special church, family and community.