Vol. 17 No. 34 | August 25, 2014
I suspect if you were to search the archives of A Norvell Note you would find a number of other articles on “moving.” Welcome to the 2014 edition. We sold our house in an effort to downsize and reduce our debt, so we are moving into an apartment until we find the next house. Even though we are calling this a short-term temporary move, I confess that moving is always semi-traumatic for me.
I get attached. I get comfortable. I put down roots. I settle in. I make myself at home. When it is time to move I must detach, get uncomfortable, pull up roots and remind myself that this is not my home. I get nostalgic. I get sentimental. This afternoon I walked through the house and stopped in different rooms thinking, “This is our last Sunday afternoon in this house.” I felt a little like George Banks in “Father of the Bride Part II.” I also thought, “I really do not like boxes!”
In many ways moving is a good thing. Moving forces me to let go and clean out. Moving reinforces the idea that nothing lasts forever. Moving reminds me that every move, in this life, is temporary. One day we find a house and move from the apartment, even though it will promise to provide a feeling of security and permanence, It will not, because it cannot. That move, like this one, will be temporary.
Moving makes me restless. It is difficult to rest until the old place is empty and cleaned. It is even more difficult to rest in the new place until all the boxes are either empty or out of sight. Sometimes even being out of sight is not sufficient. I know they exist therefore they must be unpacked.
Moving also alerts me to the fact I was not created to feel at home in this world. Neither were you. C. S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” [C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Collier Books: New York, 1943, p. 120]
Paul said this,
“Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” (Colossians 3:1-3, NIV)
As we make this move, and anticipate the next, we hope that will be the last move. We have hoped that before. We have thought that before. Obviously we were wrong and do not know for certain that it will be true this time. In recent months I have had many reminders of the saying, “If you want to make God laugh tell Him your plans.”
I am constantly in need of what the Lord said:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9, NIV)
So, it is moving week. This house we have inhabited for the last six years will soon be filled with the laughter of another family. Our memories will go with us and we will make new memories in a new place. Another house will become our new permanent home…until it is time to move again. This process will continue as long as we live and breathe until that last move when we finally make it home. That will be a move I will enjoy.
Tom
© Copyright 2014 Tom Norvell. All rights reserved.

Another thought on being an encourager: We need you!
When a dream you have had for years, maybe a lifetime, begins to fade and you realize it is probably not going to come true, you ask the questions, but there are no answers.
This is my plea: Let’s just be the church.
nor am I ignoring the fact that we can learn much about connecting with people from these businesses and organizations. But, they are not the church. We are. We should not expect them to be what God has called us to be.
After I had completed my comments I moved back to my seat as others continued participation in the time of communion. Just as I was about to sit down a young woman whom I had never met moved up beside me and introduced herself. She had been present a time or two before but we had never talked.
to stir up one another to love and good works,…” (Hebrews 10:24, New English Version)
While visiting our son and his family in Brooklyn, New York recently we spent quite a bit of time walking. Only rode the subway one time. The rest of the time we walked. We walked to restaurants. We walked to the stores. We walked to the farmers market. We walked to the coffee shop. Mainly, we walked to parks.
I sat in the packed church sanctuary for the memorial service of a minister friend who served one church for forty years. Co-workers, friends, and family members shared memories and offered praise for a life well lived. Videos and music illustrated the fullness and richness of this good man’s life. There were tears, there was laughter, there was joy and there was sorrow.
For several weeks there was speculation about what was being built at the intersection just below our church building. Some said a gas station, but that quickly proved wrong as the style of the building and parking lot became evident. Others hoped for a nice restaurant. Personally I hoped for a coffee shop that would allow me to run a hose directly from their place to my office. Also wrong. The guessing and speculation ended when the sign was erected: a dental office and a mattress store.
The reason I walk by or through that golf course is because I am concerned about my health…physical health, mental health and spiritual health. Noticing how we sometimes abuse or neglect the earth reminds me of how I sometimes abuse or neglect my body and my soul. When I neglect or abuse my body and my soul I suffer the consequences.