It was bound to happen. After all, we now live nearly 1000 miles from the place that was home for 12 1/2 years. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon — and I didn’t expect it to make me so sad.

The distance has been magnified by circumstances. We’ve been in Wisconsin for nearly two months. In the past ten days, my dad (we use to live less than an hour away from him) had surgery, a dear friend’s son was in the hospital (I worked with his Mom), and our son became ill (we were 15 miles away). I’ve felt the distance — the literal distance — between us in profound ways. On the other hand, since we’ve been here, my father-in-law was hospitalized and our nephew-in-law became ill and is hospitalized. Granted, my second dad and our nephew are five hours away — but it isn’t 18 hours.

As a teenager I was told to bloom where I was planted. I’ve always tried to do just that. But really, what does that mean? Does it mean settling in and becoming a part of a community? Could it be working hard at the job you have and doing it to the best of your ability? Is it simply learning, as Paul said, “to be content in whatever situation wherein I find myself?”

Wherever we’ve lived we have “settled in” and made a life for ourselves, for our children, and we’ve ministered. We’ve interacted with communities. We’ve found jobs and worked hard to do them well; we’ve made friends and been involved in their lives. We’ve tried to show others who Jesus is. As we all do, we’ve loved people and we’ve been blessed to be loved by amazing, wonderful people.

When you move away from those special folks, it’s hard. Honestly, I make friends fairly easily. But it is still hard to be away from old friends, to be away from family members. And it is especially hard to be away from them when they are hurting.

Distance is difficult. It isn’t impossible to overcome, but it’s hard. In the world in which we live we are able to remain connected in so many more ways than ever before. I don’t “tweet” (I’m too verbose), but I do Facebook. I use Instagram, email, text, and of course I use the phone. Oh yeah, did I say that I blog? For the past seven weeks, we’ve been trying to communicate and stay in touch, but we didn’t have internet — we’re back on line and it’s just in time. The distance seems smaller for the simple reason that I can pick up my computer and check Facebook and email everyday once again.

I understand the concerns that people have about the overuse of technology — I have many of those same concerns. However, today, living 1000 miles away from Dad, Nate, and Carson, I’m thankful to be able to know what is going on in their lives.

Distance means we have to work harder to stay involved in each others lives. It means that the relationships are different — but they aren’t gone; they’re not lost.

As a fourth grade Girl Scout I sang a song that said, “Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other’s gold.” That’s where we are. We are living a great distance from many people we love and care for. Yet, there are amazing  “new” people that we’ve already learned to love and care for. They are silver; they are gold. They are treasures in our lives — distance or not, we treasure the gifts of the people that God has brought into our lives.

In fact, in spite of the distance — or perhaps because of it, I can join the Apostle Paul in saying these words to my friends and family who are everywhere from Alaska to Vietnam and all points in between:  “I thank my God every time I remember you. ⁴ In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy ⁵ because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now,⁶ being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. ⁷ It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart.” (Philippians 1:3-7a, NIV)