April 06
Traveling Back in Time
Remember ... the LORD your God will be with you everywhere you go.
Joshua 1:9 (NCV)
I’ll never forget March of 1966. My two sisters were laying on the bed just weeping. Come to think about it, Mom wasn’t doing much better. We had just arrived from Illinois and to many in my family, our new home in St Petersburg, Florida was a huge step down. Don’t get me wrong I love Florida, I always have, but for them the move from a rambling four-bedroom ranch house to an older, two-bedroom home in a somewhat rundown, retirement-oriented neighborhood was devastating. It really hurt. But I can see the hand of God all over it ... at least now I can.
This last week, I was in the Chicago area at a Group Life Conference at Willow Creek and traveled back in time to our old homestead—the one we left in Geneva, Illinois. Besides collecting ideas, books and a few DVDs for our church Small Group ministry, I gathered a thousand memories from my boyhood days. The old hometown is kind of touristy now with shops and restaurants and its very own Starbucks! I hadn’t been to Geneva in twenty-five years, but I remembered—so many good years and at least one really hard move.
I was born in Chicago, but it wasn’t long before my parents moved us to the suburbs, and life seemed so good. The memories were easy, but visiting the sight of our first Geneva home jolted me. We rented the top story of a two-story home down by the river, and it was gone! Now at the corner of James and River Streets was a full parking lot. I felt old when I looked at the street signs and read Historic District (Geneva was established in 1835)! But other than my house at 5 James St. disappearing, and the new river-front resort popping up across the street, it was very much the same. I looked down James Street and relived the daily, seven-block walk to school. Across busy First Street, past the Public Library, along the sidewalk graced by established homes and flower beds. It was a pleasure to walk James Street even if it was uphill. Across State Street and past the Kane County Court House. (Don’t go near the jail, Craig!) Past more manicured lawns. And finally, to the three-story brick building I considered a fortress. I remembered being inside and looking out the big classroom windows at the tall trees ... daydreaming! I recalled the desks, the clock and the high ceilings, the flag, the paper alphabet and the large, pull-down maps. And, oh, how I hated going to the chalk board to work math problems! I was such a slow student. My favorite school times were sitting on the hallway floor against the the cool, clean walls eating lunch with my friend Tom ... and recess. I noticed the old playing field with the huge tree was still there, and I remembered running and chasing and playing dungeon some forty years ago. And the Fourth Grade. How could I forget the Fourth Grade and the cute, blonde girl who was so good at soccer. She was better than I was. She was better than anyone was, and I had a heart-throbbing crush on her, and I had it bad. I played full back just so I could be near her, and we would run. Oh, how she ran. She had pig tails and a wonderful smile. She was quiet and soft and peaceful. She was everything. But then we moved. Goodbye cute, blonde girl, and the Fox River and Island Park where we used to play after school. Hello, countryside and cornfields and long bike rides to a new school. We moved to the country to a house my Dad built on his free weekends when he wasn’t commuting to Chicago.
We had a big lot, and Dad roto-tilled a plot for his vegetable garden. The backyard ended right there with the garden at a huge cornfield—my new playground. Once sister Thelma and I saw a tornado form over our yard then go ripping through the cornfield. Two miles later parts of roofs went hurling through the air. All kinds of scary things happened out here. I remember soon after moving in, my little sister Mae went in to convulsions and my parents rushed her to the hospital. It got real quiet then, and big sister Thelma came into my room, and we prayed for Mae. She came home okay, but soon after I moved out of my bedroom, so the girls could have their own rooms. Dad added a bedroom in the garage—kind of. I’m not sure if he ever finished it.... My new room wasn’t heated, so I got lots of blankets ... and the dog. Plus this really neat view out to the cornfield. I was all alone and I kind of liked it even if it was cold in the winter. I loved to cuddle under the blankets and listen to WLS 890 on the radio in Chi-ca-go! The continuing story of Chickeeen Maaaan! was a regular as well as listening to the Beatles and the Stones. 1960s Americana at its best.
I remember the fun of playing flag football at the new school with our principal, Mr. Pauley. Someone said Mr. Pauley had played college ball, and we all believed it, because he was so good. Mr. Pauley was the full-time quarterback and the rest of us would run around for passes. I remember the absolute thrill of streaking down the sideline stride for stride with three other boys, all the while watching Mr. Pauley’s high lob, a long-bomb, come sailing our way. It landed square in my arms just before I crossed the goal line. What a sensation for such an unlikely kid—touchdown! The only touchdown I would ever score in Illinois. Soon, I was back to my usual ho-hum life. But there were other adventures. Later that winter I almost got lost in a blizzard chasing my dog. Then, in February, we moved again, and everything changed.
My Dad bought rental property in Florida and took a job with the Post Office. What a difference. Florida was slow and easy and laid back. I went from having more than five teachers in five classrooms to a one-room class with Mr. Pierce, and the subjects seemed so much easier—kind of like review. Life seemed to slow waaaay down. There was no snow, no ice skating, no snowball fights, no ice forts, no real seasons and very few friends. It seemed like a step down, but then a new life, a spiritual life came my way. I came to know Jesus. I made new friends too. The church hired an energetic youth director and suddenly life was so much more exciting than it ever was in sleepy, old Geneva. There was high school, college and the Air Force. Life really turned out well....
Then last week, I went to Chicago. I went to Chicago to learn, to get better at ministry and to encourage our struggling church, but I also remembered. I remembered how God watched over me as a kid, how He stretched me, how He stretched all of us, and how He skillfully showed me something new and even better. A way easier than I imagined; and now, His gentle reminder ... He is with me everywhere I go.
Father, thanks for the memories—these and so many more. May I continue to follow wherever You may lead. Amen.
Traveling Back in Time
Remember ... the LORD your God will be with you everywhere you go.
Joshua 1:9 (NCV)
I’ll never forget March of 1966. My two sisters were laying on the bed just weeping. Come to think about it, Mom wasn’t doing much better. We had just arrived from Illinois and to many in my family, our new home in St Petersburg, Florida was a huge step down. Don’t get me wrong I love Florida, I always have, but for them the move from a rambling four-bedroom ranch house to an older, two-bedroom home in a somewhat rundown, retirement-oriented neighborhood was devastating. It really hurt. But I can see the hand of God all over it ... at least now I can.
This last week, I was in the Chicago area at a Group Life Conference at Willow Creek and traveled back in time to our old homestead—the one we left in Geneva, Illinois. Besides collecting ideas, books and a few DVDs for our church Small Group ministry, I gathered a thousand memories from my boyhood days. The old hometown is kind of touristy now with shops and restaurants and its very own Starbucks! I hadn’t been to Geneva in twenty-five years, but I remembered—so many good years and at least one really hard move.
I was born in Chicago, but it wasn’t long before my parents moved us to the suburbs, and life seemed so good. The memories were easy, but visiting the sight of our first Geneva home jolted me. We rented the top story of a two-story home down by the river, and it was gone! Now at the corner of James and River Streets was a full parking lot. I felt old when I looked at the street signs and read Historic District (Geneva was established in 1835)! But other than my house at 5 James St. disappearing, and the new river-front resort popping up across the street, it was very much the same. I looked down James Street and relived the daily, seven-block walk to school. Across busy First Street, past the Public Library, along the sidewalk graced by established homes and flower beds. It was a pleasure to walk James Street even if it was uphill. Across State Street and past the Kane County Court House. (Don’t go near the jail, Craig!) Past more manicured lawns. And finally, to the three-story brick building I considered a fortress. I remembered being inside and looking out the big classroom windows at the tall trees ... daydreaming! I recalled the desks, the clock and the high ceilings, the flag, the paper alphabet and the large, pull-down maps. And, oh, how I hated going to the chalk board to work math problems! I was such a slow student. My favorite school times were sitting on the hallway floor against the the cool, clean walls eating lunch with my friend Tom ... and recess. I noticed the old playing field with the huge tree was still there, and I remembered running and chasing and playing dungeon some forty years ago. And the Fourth Grade. How could I forget the Fourth Grade and the cute, blonde girl who was so good at soccer. She was better than I was. She was better than anyone was, and I had a heart-throbbing crush on her, and I had it bad. I played full back just so I could be near her, and we would run. Oh, how she ran. She had pig tails and a wonderful smile. She was quiet and soft and peaceful. She was everything. But then we moved. Goodbye cute, blonde girl, and the Fox River and Island Park where we used to play after school. Hello, countryside and cornfields and long bike rides to a new school. We moved to the country to a house my Dad built on his free weekends when he wasn’t commuting to Chicago.
We had a big lot, and Dad roto-tilled a plot for his vegetable garden. The backyard ended right there with the garden at a huge cornfield—my new playground. Once sister Thelma and I saw a tornado form over our yard then go ripping through the cornfield. Two miles later parts of roofs went hurling through the air. All kinds of scary things happened out here. I remember soon after moving in, my little sister Mae went in to convulsions and my parents rushed her to the hospital. It got real quiet then, and big sister Thelma came into my room, and we prayed for Mae. She came home okay, but soon after I moved out of my bedroom, so the girls could have their own rooms. Dad added a bedroom in the garage—kind of. I’m not sure if he ever finished it.... My new room wasn’t heated, so I got lots of blankets ... and the dog. Plus this really neat view out to the cornfield. I was all alone and I kind of liked it even if it was cold in the winter. I loved to cuddle under the blankets and listen to WLS 890 on the radio in Chi-ca-go! The continuing story of Chickeeen Maaaan! was a regular as well as listening to the Beatles and the Stones. 1960s Americana at its best.
I remember the fun of playing flag football at the new school with our principal, Mr. Pauley. Someone said Mr. Pauley had played college ball, and we all believed it, because he was so good. Mr. Pauley was the full-time quarterback and the rest of us would run around for passes. I remember the absolute thrill of streaking down the sideline stride for stride with three other boys, all the while watching Mr. Pauley’s high lob, a long-bomb, come sailing our way. It landed square in my arms just before I crossed the goal line. What a sensation for such an unlikely kid—touchdown! The only touchdown I would ever score in Illinois. Soon, I was back to my usual ho-hum life. But there were other adventures. Later that winter I almost got lost in a blizzard chasing my dog. Then, in February, we moved again, and everything changed.
My Dad bought rental property in Florida and took a job with the Post Office. What a difference. Florida was slow and easy and laid back. I went from having more than five teachers in five classrooms to a one-room class with Mr. Pierce, and the subjects seemed so much easier—kind of like review. Life seemed to slow waaaay down. There was no snow, no ice skating, no snowball fights, no ice forts, no real seasons and very few friends. It seemed like a step down, but then a new life, a spiritual life came my way. I came to know Jesus. I made new friends too. The church hired an energetic youth director and suddenly life was so much more exciting than it ever was in sleepy, old Geneva. There was high school, college and the Air Force. Life really turned out well....
Then last week, I went to Chicago. I went to Chicago to learn, to get better at ministry and to encourage our struggling church, but I also remembered. I remembered how God watched over me as a kid, how He stretched me, how He stretched all of us, and how He skillfully showed me something new and even better. A way easier than I imagined; and now, His gentle reminder ... He is with me everywhere I go.
Father, thanks for the memories—these and so many more. May I continue to follow wherever You may lead. Amen.
posted by Craig Soderquist at 8:50 PM
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