I hate evergreen trees

I guess this is going to be a more personal post. I don't really feel like it belongs in the other blog. I guess you could say it would belong in my journal, if I kept one. But I don't, so I'll put it here. This will probably be pretty familiar to a couple of you. And it's freaking long, of course, as usual. But this is where I'm at right now. If you're wondering what's going on with Tuck these days... here it is.


For years, I've said that irony is God's sense of humour.

I'll be honest. I don't like this country. No, wait, I take that back. I don't like living in this country. I don't like it. I don't like American towns, American culture, American lifestyle. But I do love America. I'm very patriotic. I love a lot of things that America stands for. I love the freedoms and rights that America affords me. I love America. But I don't like living here. I'd rather be an American, and all that that means, somewhere else. In Africa, to be specific. It's home. It's where I feel comfortable. It's where I belong.

Let's see. I'm a conservative kinda guy. Not Jerry Falwell, James Dobson, right wing radical, off the deep end conservative. But in the grand scheme of things, I'm certainly a fair amount right of center. I can't stand tofu eating, protesting, conspiracy preaching, drum circle dancing, pot smoking, tye-dye wearing, ultra radical flaming liberals. They give me headaches. (Please notice that I'm talking about the extreme liberals, not just anyone who falls anywhere even moderately left of center.) But somehow, I ended up in Eugene.

What else? It's freaking cold here. I hate cold. No, you don't understand. I hate cold more than anyone I've ever known. I grew up in perpetual summer. I put on extra layers, long sleeve shirts, and heavy sweaters when the temperature dropped below 72 degrees. I hate cold. I should be in Texas or Arizona, someplace where people still wear shorts in December. But somehow, I ended up in Eugene.

Oh yeah. And I hate evergreen trees. Yep. I hate evergreen trees. They're just not me. It's not my country. It's not my terrain. I'm not a Northwest guy. My country... well, why should I describe it? I'll just show you:

Click here for several pictures that should give you a decent idea of my kinda country.

That's my kinda country. I'm not into this Northwest stuff. My parents love it; not me. I hate evergreen trees. But somehow, I ended up in Eugene.

Like I said, irony is God's sense of humor. And right now, He's really amused at all this.

But here I am. And I'm not saying I'm not enjoying life here. I love my life. I learned long ago the skill of being happy wherever I am, and in whatever circumstance I find myself. (My future as a rock star died the day I learned the secret to perpetual happiness; I mean, name one happy rock star.) But the really strange thing is that I think I'm going to stay here. Here in America. Maybe even here in Eugene. I don't mean for a year or two. I mean long term, into my adult life, indefinitely. That may not seem so strange to some, but for me, it's so far out that I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea.

I'd always assumed that I'd go back. Not just to visit, for visit I surely will, even still. But I had always thought that I would move back to Africa, to resume my life out there, after I had completed school. Because I love it out there, so much more than I like America. And because not just anyone can live in Africa, but it's something I do well, and naturally. Because it's as much of a home as I've ever known. And now I'm beginning to figure out that that just might never happen. It's a very, very strange feeling to me. It feels really weird to look to the future and see myself living here in the States. Weirder than you know.

So, what happened? God called me to ministry.

Not that that much had ever really been in doubt. I had always assumed, however, that God would call me to ministry specifically in the area of foreign missions. To be precise, I had always believed that God would have me return as a missionary to West Africa. But the more time goes by, the more it seems to become clear to me that God wants me in church ministry here in America, not out there.

I've recently become involved in youth ministry. I am part of a team that leads the middle school and high school youth group at our church, and despite my verbosity, even I have not the words to describe how much I love that youth group. I love those kids to death, as I've said before on this blog. And I love that ministry. I've never felt so meant to do anything in my life. And the funny thing is, I had never even considered youth ministry until I joined this youth ministry team a few months ago. Not that I was against it; it simply hadn't even occurred to me. But God opened a door, and I believe He is really blessing this ministry and doing great things in this group of kids.

So by "church ministry" I'm referring essentially to youth, music, and pastoral ministries. And I'm hesitant to predict the future, because the Big Guy never really gives me much say in things of that magnitude. I already feel like I've predicted too much. But if I were to guess, right now, based on what I've discerned of God's calling on my life at this point, I would say that I'm headed into youth and music ministry for the extended forseeable future. And maybe later, when I'm older, I'll move more into pastoral ministry. But none of that really includes career foreign missions.

The odd thing is that I'm really beginning to be able to see the ways that my experience as an MK (missionary kid), and my experience in general with ministry in foreign missions, has actually equipped me for ministry here in the States. I think one of the biggest things I've gained from my years as an MK, aside from the overall experience with ministry, is a unique ability to filter American culture out of American Christianity. I mean, there are many other ways in which I'm beginning to see how God has equipped me, and is continuing to equip me, for ministry. But for some reason, this one sticks out in my mind. Because I believe that there is a lot of American culture that has become mixed in with American Christianity. But since that culture is in many ways as foreign to me as it is to a non-American, it enables me to filter through it, and separate the culture from the faith.

In any case, I get this growing sense that I'm staying here. Perhaps even here in Eugene. After I graduate from college (fingers crossed), the next step is seminary. And the seminary that I'm really favoring right now, and hoping for, is Multnomah Biblical Seminary, up in Portland. That would allow me to stay here in Eugene, and commute one or two nights a week for classes.

Of course, that, in itself, is a strange thing. And by "that," I'm referring to my desire to stay here. I have not wanted to stay anywhere in years. Everywhere I've been, I've wanted to leave after a couple of months. I have not been attached to any place, or even that much to any group of people, in years. But—and I've said this on here before—if I was given the opportunity to leave today, to go wherever I wanted, all expenses paid... I wouldn't go. I wouldn't go. Even if school wasn't an issue, I wouldn't go. I don't think anyone really understands how crazy that is for me. No matter where I am, I'm always restless, always ready to move on. So why don't I want to leave this place? With the single exception of my high school friends from back in Africa, I have never really made any serious attachment to anyone, anywhere. So why these people, here at Emerald? Of all the places in the world, Eugene??!

I'm not totally sure why, to tell the truth. Like I said, I'm kinda confused by it, myself. But I got a couple of ideas. I think it all starts with those kids. I don't know what it is. What is it about them that cuts right through me and grabs hold of me where countless other people, of all different types, have failed? I don't know. But they did it. It's even got me thinking a couple years down the road, when some of them graduate and maybe move away, and I feel like a clingy parent who doesn't want them to go. Now, that's pretty freaky when you consider that usually, any thought of the future would have been more likely to have something to do with me getting out of this place. Now suddenly I see myself as staying, even after some of them graduate and move on. I'm so confused.

It all started with those kids. To be honest, a few months ago, I could have left Emerald and never looked back. I would have been grateful for the time spent here, but to move on would not have been difficult. But now, the only way I'm leaving is if someone drags me, kicking and screaming. But it's also something about this community. I've rarely seen such a tightly knit community of believers. This community honestly feels like one huge, extended family. And perhaps that reminds me of high school some, because that's the way it was at ICA.

When it comes right down to it, I can't really explain it, completely. It doesn't make sense to me. It seems contrary to everything I know about the way I am. I don't know what they did here, to get me attached for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. But here I am, and God willing, this is where I want to stay.

I can't believe I just wrote that.