Transitions

   Today is the final full day of our stay at Upper Peninsula Bible Camp's Family Camp and in some ways the last full day of our summer.  Ironically it is about 55 degrees with rain and a strong wind and so does not feel very summer-like.  But in many ways, this is a transition day:

• This will be the last day we spend together as a relatively weird family unit of eight.  The eight of us represent four generations.  My mother and both of Connie's parents came to camp, as did two of our children and our grandson Jesse.  I think this at least ties an unofficial camp record for the "Most Generations Represented by One Family" category.
• When we return home, I will both have to and want to start being in, at, and about school.  I hope to begin the preparations for the new year and to clean up the mess I left behind when I vacated my position early to enter the hospital in mid-May. There are pieces I need to pick up and put back in place again.  This is all good.  I have learned to appreciate in new ways the busy-ness of what others would consider a "normal" life.  
• We will be at home for the rest of the summer.  Our final road trip adventure will be the quick seven-hour drive from here back to Grand Rapids tomorrow.  Yet as I continue to heal I understand that every day is an adventure and that life is never something that we have conquered or completed.  This is another renewed perspective I have gained through this cancer experience.  

   Transitions are all a part of life.  While here at camp, I have been again reminded of transitions. As Christians we all have made transitions from the wrong way of living to following Jesus.  These stories of transition are worth celebrating (thanks for your story, Kenny)!  We have also been made aware of people who seemed to have been on the right track with Jesus only to renounce him and his word as being authoritative in their lives.  This is frustrating and sad to me; I am sure that Jesus knew all along but it must still sadden him as well.  We are also confronted with stories of transitions from earthly life to earthly death.  Dave Munson, a father of two young children, just died this week at the age of 51.  These transitions make no sense at the time they occur.  The only thing that makes sense about such deaths is that there is another transition for the believer from earthly death to eternal life with Jesus.  This is a great comfort and blessing for both the one called home and for those left behind, but family and friends still must wade through the mire of grief and questioning that happens at one's death.

   My next few weeks include a few personal transitions.  I have to get home from the U.P.  I will be getting back to school.  I will continue my transition toward resuming a life that does not revolve around meds and catheters and chemo and hospitals and counting days since my transplant (we are at Day +71, by the way).  I am eager to transition back to being an energetic dad and husband and friend.  

   This cold and blustery day may be the final one for a while here at camp, but all of life is changing -- and this fact I will claim as a good thing.