I was in college and I got a call from my friend very early on a Sunday morning asking if my parents were alright. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then I learned that a huge tornado had struck my hometown. I called around and eventually found out that my home had been directly hit and destroyed. By God’s grace, my parents had escaped the house with just some scratches and bruises, but could have very easily died.  

I had to preach that morning at a church. I went and did it, but was a little stunned. I came back to the campus and finally got to talk to my parents. If I remember correctly, it must have been around Thanksgiving or something because I think we had Thursday and Friday off of classes.  

I stayed at college and didn’t go home until Monday night or Tuesday morning (I don’t remember which one).  

What a dumb move.

Why? Who knows. Maybe I was nervous about a paper I needed to finish. Maybe I didn’t want to miss too many classes. Maybe my parents said don’t worry about it right now.  

That was dumb and one of my top regrets. I nearly lost my parents and I was worried about skipping a class? Dumb. Don’t do that.  

If your friends or family are in crisis, you should leave what you are doing immediately and go be with them. I should have preached the sermon, packed up my things, and went down there immediately.

It’s important to be from somewhere, even if you don’t live there.

Having a hometown, or a “native place” (as they say in India), means that you didn’t just plop into the world out of nowhere. You have a place you know, a culture you identify with, food you can taste without eating it.

There are some people who move around so much in their early years that they really aren’t from anywhere. Eventually, they just have to pick a place and go with it.

There are others who live in a place their whole life, but never really identify with it. Whether it is the suburbanized, generic Walmart culture, or just a fear of actually interacting with real people, they are stunted and are never really from the place they lived.

I am somewhere in the middle. I have virtually no emotional connections to my hometown that I can remember before high school. But once I turned 15 or 16, I established a lot of things that are today the reasons I feel closest to that place.

…driving by myself down the sloping roads, headed to a friend’s house.

…standing at an art gallery and being mesmerized by a picture of a tiger leaning down to drink some water.

…going by myself down to the riverfront to sit and watch the water move.

…heading to the nearby drive-in movie theater with a group of friends.

…going slowly down the white roads late at night while the snow came down.

…getting my haircut by the barber downtown who is almost certainly in the witness protection program.

…walking into one of the antique stores and buying a blue glass vase for Mama before we got married.

…visiting the local ice cream shop that sells massive servings for cheap.

…the feel of springtime and flowers blooming on the trees.

…the thick humidity and hot summers.

…how we called every carbonated beverage a “Coke”.

 

Even now, when I go home, I feel like I have to at least drive through downtown and see the river once every time, or else I’m not home yet.

Yet, I still wish I would have even stronger bonds to that place. I wish I knew it well enough that I could really miss it while we were living away from it. I wish I knew more people there that I could see when I visit. I wish I had a favorite local restaurant.

 

Mama and I will do our best to offer you the chance to do this, but you also need to take it on yourself. Do you know every road in your town? (I learned a lot one time after delivering phone books to people in my area.) Can you be lost in your town, or do you always know where you are?

 

Go to local events and festivals. I’m always amazed at what brings people out of their houses and gets them together to celebrate. Whatever it is that your community does, show up.

Shop at places where you see the same people all the time. Local businesses are essential for a town to thrive. They also give you a stronger connection to your native land. Go to restaurants where you have the same waiter/waitress every time. Have a favorite place to shop where you know the owner. Have a favorite restaurant that you always recommend to people coming from out of town. Have a favorite meetup spot. Get to know the owner, ask questions, ask for favors.

Find a place of natural beauty. I had the river where I grew up, but there was so much more. I remember working on a construction job about 40 minutes away from my home and being blown away at the gorgeousness of the rolling hills beside a church we were working on. Whether it is a state park, a waterway, a trail, or just a quiet place, find somewhere you really love and can appreciate. Walk every inch of that place. Know it so well you can be there in your mind in an instant, no matter where you are.

Make friends with people not your age. I would say that about 85-90% of the people I knew in my hometown were those I went to school with. The problem with that is that most of those people moved away. So when you go back and visit, they don’t live there anymore. Make friends with young married couples, young families, older families, teachers, the elderly – all sorts of people. These are the people who don’t tend to leave, and they are the people you will look forward to seeing. While family friends are important, make friends with people that we don’t know as well, or whom you introduce us to. Take the initiative to know people on your own terms.

(I realize at this point that this all assumes you are from somewhere and leave that place. You don’t have to do that. You can stay. It’s a beautiful thing to see someone so invested in a place that they see no reason to ever leave. If it makes you happy, it makes life a lot easier too. But that’s another topic.)

Know something about the local politics. What are the local issues people really get fired up about? Your vote means a heck of a lot more in local elections than anything nationally. At least know who is the mayor, or who is on the council, how things are run. There’s even a chance you could want to run for a position one day when you realize that you could change something for the better.

Establish traditions. When we lived in India, every Saturday we would go to a park to walk and then eat at a local place. It was wicked hot sometimes, but we did it as often as we could. Even now, those are some of the fondest memories I have.

 

Hopefully this is easy for you, but you have to be intentional for it to happen.

 

I’ll close with one of the most beautiful songs ever written:

 

Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.
Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.
West Virginia, mountain mamma, take me home, country roads.

All my memories gather round her, miner’s lady, stranger to blue water.
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky, misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.
West Virginia, mountain mamma, take me home, country roads.

I hear her voice in the morning hour, she calls me, the radio reminds me of my home far away.
And driving down the road I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday, yesterday.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.
West Virginia, mountain mamma, take me home, country roads.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.
West Virginia, mountain mamma, take me home, country roads

Take me home now, country roads,
Take me home now, country roads.

 

“Country Roads” by John Denver

 

 

 

This Christmas, our family got together for a dinner.

People walked in and out from 5pm to 9pm. Food was laid out buffet-style in the kitchen; eat as you want. I think my mom said a prayer and the grazing started. The food included snack sandwiches from Chick-fil-a, three pre-made trays from the local grocery store, store-bought dip, and exactly two homemade dishes.

Grandpa distributed checks to everyone. My aunt waited for someone to notice that she was engaged, which nearly didn’t happen until the end and happened with as minimal of a ruckus as possible. Then everyone left.

As it was going on and after it happened, I was struck how empty it all seemed. I shouldn’t complain; at least I have a family to gather with – more than my dad can say now. But at the same time, aside from gathering, it didn’t feel like much was going on.

Family culture and traditions are hard; they take work. They take planning, preparation, going to the grocery, sticking to it when no one else wants to anymore, motivating people like me to get up and do something. And they usually take a strong woman to keep them going.

Maybe this loss of culture is bigger than just my family. As our lives get more and more convenient, we gratefully give more and more of them over corporations and technology who want to do the work for us for a reasonable fee. Anytime something gets hard, it probably isn’t worth it anymore. We get used to easy. And anything that isn’t easy is harder than it used to be.

Previously, on Thanksgiving, Grandma and Grandpa gave all the kids a new ornament to hang on our trees, and we drew names for gifts – all the cousins in one hat, and all the aunts and uncles in another. We spent the rest of Thanksgiving trying to figure out who had whose name. Continue reading