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Weekly e-Gram for members and friends of Dublin Community Church

September 21, 2012


When we lived in the mountains of Northeastern Washington, 30 years ago, if you walked out into our front yard and looked to the end of the street where the bridge crossed the Pend Oreille River, you could see the small community hospital.

And yet, in spite of a distance of about 1000 yards, we still nearly had to deliver our daughter in the parking lot. She was that insistent on entering the world. This is our second daughter.

Across the years it was interesting to see what she got from me and what she got from her mother. She was an excellent sprinter/runner. She got that from me. She has a love for horses. Clearly that came from her mother. She loves the lake in Michigan. That is from both of us.

So she spent her first few years in the mountains of Washington State and her formative years in Central Ohio. She told us, that as a kid she and her friends would wander all through the woods near our house in Lancaster. I had to wonder if there was something in her genetics, which craved the woods where she was born.

Like all parents, we keep photos of our children in our memories. Some of the photos are real and some are images of what we experienced with them. I see pictures of her and her sister in the headlands above the Golden Gate Bridge.  Prom pictures. Floating on the “King Kool” lounge chair in the lake in Michigan with a magazine. Sitting at a seaside café in Barcelona watching the Mediterranean.

I still recall being with her and my mother at the Indian Mounds in Newark, Ohio. These mounds are ancient and were fortunately preserved. We were visiting them one day.  Mom and I marveled at the sacred, ancient remnants of a culture long-passed. Our daughter who was 9 years old, looked around and suddenly shouted with great excitement, “Look over there!!” We turned expecting to see some historic relic, which we might have over looked. “Look, there in the parking lot…a yellow Porsche!”

And the history lesson was over.

A parent wonders if we should have done more here, or not so much there or given them more for that and less for this. Did we strengthen them for the decades ahead? Warn them of the pitfalls? Were they supplied with enough hope and skills for recognizing the charlatans of society and for trusting the men and women filled with grace and devotion? Do they know when to persevere and when to change course? Do they know how to laugh, because the world will give them plenty of cause to cry?

And I wonder if my parents wondered the same thing about me as I set forth to leave home. I imagine they did. Our daughter has a partner now whom she will marry this weekend. We feel quite good about him. And her. And them.

Peace, Rev. Bob Tussing

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