The irony about knowing people is that when it has been long enough, you can either run out of words, or have far too many. It isn’t a problem, I don’t think, it is simply a paradox. A comfortable paradox, hmm? I think so.
quick note: our family moved to Pittsburgh.
So yeah. Right? Yeah. I imagined our home being picked up and dropped in-between two rivers, in the heart of a land of no mosquitoes and too many Steelers fans. (antithesis of MN. :-)) And that’s basically what happened, in the end, except with 20 hours of driving in a packed Jeep away from a small world.
We thank God for these people.
Dad, Hannah, and Momma. Dad and Mom, as you may have guessed, are my parents. :-) They love Jesus, and they rock at ruling the family.
Hannah is a member of a band that I may or may not have invested quite a bit of life in in the the last year or two. She’s a photographer/letter-writer/tea-drinker/book-reader, and she can sing harmony.
Grandma and Grandpa Skogerboe. AKA, family at the lake, AKA, lovers of FUN, AKA, providers of delicious beef. Between the grill and the stove top, they monopolize supper time. And Grandpa’s prayers are heart ones.These guys epitomize my life as of yet. That is to say, knowing them has changed who I am. Left to right:
Alex. Plays a mean electric guitar and is better than me at basketball. Spikes hair like a boss, loves little Haitian children and God.
Caleb. Son of youth director, will be youth director. Also plays basketball better than me. Strong man of faith, too tall.
Jake. Thinker, listener, eater. Full of joy, and sometimes Tacos. (You should see this guy at T-Bell.) Reader, and brilliant, and alive.
Ry. The third member of our little chapel band. He is an artist, and his songwriting is like Jason Mraz mixed with Jon Foreman mixed with awesome.
These men, I will miss.
Grandpa Bob. Your knowledge of Lutheran and Norwegian history is astounding. Your stomach for Lutheran and Norwegian fish is astounding. Your faith and your love for Grandma Lo is inspiring. :-) BUFF-A-LO.
Smack Matt and Kara Bean. Thank you for guarding our pup, and painting the pictures. Never forget your sword/stick-fighting lessons – they may someday (doubtful) serve you well. Keep on playing, and loving Jesus.
And now for the non-conclusive end to a partial, un-finishable blog post.
I am still a Minnesotan. (You can tell by the way I am cooking in my skin. Seriously, PA? Seriously??) I am simply living a new life, where the hills are wearing trees. I love good ol’ flat Minnesota, and I am amazed by new ol’ hot Pennsylvania, and the pictures will never end.
So stay tuned.