It was on our drive home from Minnesota over a week ago that it hit me. As I drove, Guy asleep in the passenger seat, I found myself mourning our return to Milwaukee, as if it was February all over again.
Our time in Minnesota at the end of July was spent steeped in moments rich in memories. Saturdays were spent celebrating our nephew turning four and watching two little boys with uninhibited laughter in a blow-up pool that might has well have been a full out waterpark to their wild imaginations. Weekdays brought work time mixed with a multitude of coffee and lunch dates. Dates filled with conversations that beckoned myself and those I was with to open the inner workings of our hearts and walk in vulnerable, honest, Christ-centered community together. We celebrated my 25th birthday over my favorite treat; the most decadent chocolate buttercream cake found only at Cafe Latte on the beautiful Grand Avenue in St. Paul with my parents. Celebrated homecomings with my in-laws. And lastly but not the least in any way, we sat around tables with dear college friends, also in town for the summer. We experienced relationships that didn't require small talk or getting to know you questions but simply picked up where they were left when we last saw one another, in some cases, years ago.
As I drove, Minnesota existed, now only in my memory, as the rich, God-given, limitless experience of authentic, intentional community and relationships. In my heart I knew these relationships did not yet exist in Milwaukee, our new home, where we were now driving back to for the bulk of the fall and early winter months. And my whole being ached to relive and remain in the experience of our final weeks in Minnesota.
But I write today in the trust and belief that God gives us these moments to taste just a glimpse of our communion with Him. Communion in which God comes to us in love and we respond with great joy. Beautiful communal experiences, freely available to all who are in Christ. He Himself walks with us daily, knows us deeply, and communes with us without limit. Our fellowship, our communion with Him, fulfills the very purpose of our being. God Himself sent His only son to pay the price for our sins so that we may be reconciled to God and experience communion with Him.
And while Milwaukee still exists in all its stomach turning newness, I know the Lord goes with us. I know practically speaking, He will lead Guy and I into physical community in Milwaukee, like the one we have in Minnesota, but communion with God exists now, regardless of our location and circumstances. He goes forth with us today, tomorrow, and the next.