Yesterday, I spent the afternoon re-exploring Lake Elmo. My heart smiles every time I pass over the city limits and see that sign - "Lake Elmo pop. 6368." To be able to spend hours driving through the streets remembering was priceless.
Honestly, I probably looked super sketch. I parked in front of my old houses and imagined the layout, looked at my bedroom window, and relived the memories from each room.
I moved onto the railroad tracks at the end of Kraft Circle. I jumped through the snow bank and up onto the tracks. Lying there, I heard the sound of of the train's whistle in my head, imagining full-grown milkweed. How many summers did Taylor and I collect this milkweed and feed it to our captured caterpillars, soon-to-be monarchs?
From there, I drove to Lion's Park. I drove past the softball fields, remembering all of Huff-n-Puff tournaments my dad played in. I ran over to the playground, spun on the carousel, and flew in the swings. All of it was so familiar and the memories vivid, from the woodchips, to the moss-covered base of the water fountain. As I left the park, I drove past the Lutheran church and heard the bell tower announcing the hour.
Finally, on my way out of my childhood town, I stopped by my old church. I sat on the benches out front, red paint peeling. I relived the countless games of 'bench tag' my friends and I played every Sunday after service, incidentally tripping nearly everyone as they left.
I love this quaint little town. And as I sat on the swing at Lion's Park, it hit me. I had a wonderful childhood, and I treasure each of these precious memories. But I'm not a kid anymore. Trying to figure out tis balance has been tricky - I still live with my family, but my role in the family has changed. I have more responsibility and I'm more independent, but I'm not on my own. I'm thinking through what it looks like for me to serve my family well during this in-between stage. It's a challenge, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love this time with all of them!
Growing up has always been a a scary thought, I'm not very fond of the unknown. I guess that yesterday it just hit me - I'm not a kid anymore, and I need to move on. I need to grow up and learn how to be an adult. Being a child in Lake Elmo was a season, and being an adult in Minneapolis is another. And both are so good.
(Ecclesiastes 3:1).
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