I don't know when I got it into my head that everything about me must be certain and solid and unchangeable and forever. i don't know how this lie crept in or when. I'm hardly bothering to take account though. Somewhere along the way I demanded of myself that every word, written and spoken, ought to be fully truth, fully spiritual, and fully certain. It was as though I took the unchangeableness of a pristine and solid rock God and tried to paste it onto the cardboard cutout of me and said "It is good."

The only thing good about this is that contrary to the childish game, rock does beat paper. Rock always prevails.

I say that so that you know that what follows is not written by Lore the Invincible (someone told me this week that that's what people think of me) and so that you know that it is actually written by Lore the Lame (of Jacob and the Angel wrestling fame). I walk with a limp and these days I am okay with limps.

I am moving. Like Abraham, when he was told to leave his father's house. Like Elijah, when he hid in the cave. Like Mary and Joseph, when they birthed something holy in the middle of squalor. Like David, when he brought five stones and a slingshot. Like Jonah, when he ran away.

The point is, I don't know why exactly I'm moving or what will be born of it. What I know is that I feel a deep peace about it and I feel an expectation inside of me that It Is Good.

There are three reasons why I'm moving where I moving and if you want to know them, I'll say them to you. There are no reasons why I'm moving from where I'm moving, so even if you ask, I will not say them to you. I am happy here. I love Potsdam. I love my home on Grove Street. I love my church. I love my coworkers and my employers. I love my farmer's market. I love my friends. I love my small group. I love my mountains. But one thing I am learning is that there are more reasons to live somewhere than because it makes one happy.

There are many facets to the story of this and I wish I could give you a bullet point list of them all. Well, no, I don't wish that. I wish I could sit and have coffee and scones with each of you and say the whole story face to face. I am not so good at virtual relationships as I once was.

I will be going to Texas for an undetermined amount of time, somewhere under six months though. Already some people have issued their concern that I will never be back. Some people have said they'd be disappointed if I came back. Some people have said don't ever come back. Some people have said we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. And honestly, I feel good about writing my story as I go. I feel good about being a cardboard cutout, covered by the grace of God and little else.

This might not work for you and you will demand explanation, proof of a great career opportunity in Dallas or a purpose more certain than "because I feel certain." But the truth is, I feel certain. A few years ago a guest minister prayed these words over me, with his hand on my head:

The Lord's hand is on you for ministry. Do not buy into the secular value system, there are going to be paths ahead of you that just make sense in everyone's eyes and yet there's going to be this little thread of doubt in you, that's the spirit of God. Listen to it, even if it doesn't make sense to the rest of the world. You hear his voice. You can know.

In this, today, I feel like I know.