At last...

At last... we have driver's licenses in the wonderful, complicated, beautiful and beloved Commonwealth of Massachusetts. It was hard to let go of our Arizona prizes: not only are the good until Jesus returns (literally, at 18 you don't have to renew your license until you are 65!) but they represented the good ole cowboy mentality of that fierce, wild place. And, truth be told, we HATE bureaucracy - and when we went to exchange our licenses about a year ago we not only had to deal with the shrew bureaucrat from Hell, but we didn't have the right forms to prove we lived in our house.

But today, we not only registered our new/old car without incident (a blessed miracle), but the dear people at the RMV were fun, friendly and very helpful - and in 10 minutes we had a car registered AND two new driver's licences! How did Etta James put it?


Folks at church breathed a sigh of relief when we finally got Massachusetts plates on the truck - and I get that. It was a clear sign that we were really casting out lot here and not carpetbaggers in reverse. But when we didn't have the right ID to get our licenses last winter - and it was going to cost us over a hundred dollars EACH - that old cowboy thing took over and we said: stick it, ok? We'll keep driving under the approval of the wide open skies of the Grand Canyon State. Eventually, it was just a matter of economics but... now all that is history.

We are really rooted in this sweet place: struggling along side our friends, hoping and praying for blessings as a part of the community - dare I say connected - or living into an incarnational spirituality? That is one of the insights of the Christian faith that I resonate with most deeply: the word becoming flesh. God within and among us. And you have to live it if you say you believe it. So, at last... we are a part of this blessed place on a deeper level. (How can you NOT love a place with a punk Celtic band called the Drop Kick Murphys?)

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