/ Colorado

A Few Life Updates

Since we moved to Colorado, a few pretty major things have happened.

1. The house

The timing for our house got bumped around. A bunch. We moved expecting that we'd likely end up moving in sometime in December, and shortly after getting here, we got scheduled to do a final walk-through on the house on December 15 and to close December 22. We planned to move in on December 23, and enjoy a family Christmas in our new home.

Then there was a problem with the cabinets. And cabinets delayed a bunch of other things. And we have a good builder, and so they opted to delay… but that includes needing to delay past the Christmas break, and then that bumped into other people's closing schedules, so we got bumped back nearly a full month. New final walkthrough date: January 10. New closing date: January 17. New likely move-in date (because who's around to help move in on a Thursday?): January 20.

Given that, as I'm writing this, we were originally hoping to be in our house already... we're disappointed. It'll be okay, of course, and we're now less than four weeks out, but it was an annoying bump, to say the least.

On the other hand… it’s still gorgeous, and we’re giddy to get to live there in short order.


2. My dad's health

The much bigger bump for us, which I haven’t written about publicly yet at all, is that less than a week after we got here we learned that my dad has a brain tumor, which turned out to be relatively aggressive—though, thankfully, not as aggressive as it could be: it’s a Stage 3 and not a Stage 4 tumor.[1]

“Has,” I say, not “had,” because although he’s had a very-successful-under-the-circumstances surgery that removed ~80–85% of the tumor, there’s still that final ~15–20% hanging around in his brain. He'll be starting chemo and radiation early next week, with the aim of preventing further growth—because killing this kind of tumor isn’t really an outcome the neural oncologist even looks for. The outlook is good, as far as brain tumors go: this treatment approach has an average outcome of 10–15 years of management of the tumor.

Still: this isn’t exactly news you ever want to hear. It’s been a bumpy road. God has given us enormous grace to walk through it, but we are tired.

3. Our church

Gladly, the last major thing that has happened in our lives is that we’ve joined a healthy church here in the area—Forestgate Presbyterian Church (PCA)—and it’s already been a great blessing to us. If it seems odd to you that we joined a PCA church immediately after I finished my M. Div. at a Southern Baptist seminary, well, the hilarity of it isn’t lost on us, either. But that’s where we’ve landed—and by conviction, not by convenience. I’ll probably write at some length on my personal site about how we chose this specific congregation. I doubt I’ll ever blog about the transition from being a Baptist to being a Presbyterian, as it’s the kind of post that’s apt to generate more heat than light. (I’m happy to talk about it in personal conversation, of course!)

The details of how we ended up there aside, the congregation has been incredibly welcoming to us; it’s no exaggeration to say it’s the most hospitable congregation I’ve ever even visited. We’ve begun to make friends, and look forward to continuing to make friends in the months ahead; and we’re incredible excited for our house to be done so we can start using it for hospitality to others ourselves! We’re also looking forward to digging in and finding out where best we can serve now and thinking about what it will look like to plant deep roots here and serve for the decades ahead as well. (There are people, including elders, who have been at Forestgate since it was planted in late 1986—before I was born. That’s incredibly inspiring and encouraging to us!)

  1. It’s an anaplastic oligodendroglioma, for you medical nerds out there. ↩︎