Unpacking A Move!


Over the past several weeks, we have moved more of our stuff from Vicksburg to Madison

We’ve packed up over there; unpacked over here (or least stacked boxes in sometimes strategic places).

The act of moving is not an art. There isn’t a delicate movement here or there—no finely tuned instrumentation taking place. It is just a blunt necessity.

This particular move has been anything but typical. We have strung this out in bits and pieces while we work on the new house. But ready or not, it is time to get everything from there to here.

What has been typical comes from this perspective: What looked valuable, important, and needed over there somehow looks junky, unimportant, and unwanted over here.

Be that as it may, all this moving stuff has caused me a bit of difficulty.

Over there, I had mostly hidden the treasures and knick knacks that were so important to my son, Cole. Hidden, as in put away, out of sight, and lacking the ability to move around on their own. I knew what and where to avoid—to keep myself from stepping on any emotional land mines especially if I was unprepared (as if one could ever be truly be ready).

Over here, I am having to handle them, find places for them, and otherwise deal with my grief and pain in a fresh new way.

I have been known to say that losing a child is like living a nightmare you never wake up from.

It’s always there.
It never goes away
And tears may come when you least expect it.

King David mourned the death of his son with these famous words: My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son! (2 Samuel 18:33 HCSB)

I get it.
I wish I didn’t, but I do.

I get the pain.
I get the hurt.
I get the anguish and anger.

As I write this, I would like to fuss about my contacts not working.  I’d like to complain about how blurry my glasses are. But the truth is often quite simple: tears have a way of distorting our vision.

Some days it is just plain hard to see.
I miss my boy.
I really do.

But as I push past the tears, as I trust in the God who will one day wipe them all away, I find myself thankful for you:

For my wife
For my children
For my family
For my friends
For my church
For all who lent an ear, shared a shoulder, and otherwise walked with me through the valley of the shadow of death.

Your love and support helps bear a burden too big to carry alone.

Thank you for being Jesus to me and living out the words of Paul in Colossians 3:12-15.

Therefore, God’s chosen ones, holy and loved, put on heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, accepting one another and forgiving one another if anyone has a complaint against another. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you must also forgive. Above all, put on love—the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah, to which you were also called in one body, control your hearts. Be thankful.

And I am.

As the song says, thank you Lord for loving me

Les, Jr.
Madison/ Ridgeland

6 thoughts on “Unpacking A Move!

  1. Hi Les and Jimmy Hinton,

    Just a note that I finished watching Jimmy’s video, with both of you on it, about child sexual abuse prevention. It was recommended to me by a woman who posts on the Spiritual Sounding Board. I found it on mom Clara Hinton’s website Finding a Healing Place under the Resources tab.

    I watched the video over several days, as it is a painful subject and I needed time. I finished it last night. And I slept really soundly because of both of you and your transparency and honesty. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

    I was ordered to be excommunicated and shunned at my church of 8-years by my pastors/elders because I had opposed them secretly bringing their friend a Megan’s List sex offender to our church, not telling all adults and members, giving him church membership, giving him a position of leadership and trust, and giving him access to all church activities (including those with children and a sports camp). The pastors/elders insisted he *repented* and *was fine*. I saw him run his hands through my friends’ 4-year old son’s hair. I received many threats from my pastors/elders that I was to never tell anyone else, never contact law enforcement.

    I told my friends after my excommunication/shunning why I protected their 4-year old son and took a stand. They responded well: They packed up and moved hours away under the pretext of *having to be near family* and left our former church to protect their children. If they had tried to protect them any other way (such as take a stand with the pastors/elders) they too would have been excommunicated and shunned.

    I have met so many people who no longer go to church because of sexual abuse that took place in the church and how they (and frequently their families) were betrayed.

    I regret ever having judged those who didn’t go to church.

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