The White Picket Fence

Deep down, somewhere in my soul, I am a writer. Maybe not a very interesting one, but the spark of writing is a part of me. I often spend time producing prose in my mind that will never see the light of day. So when a friend suggested I start this blog, I knew that it was time to let my miscellaneous musing spill out on the page.

The life I have found is far different than the one I pictured in my early adulthood. I was going to be a pastor of a church somewhere in a southern state with a typical family and a white picket fence. (Well, first I was going to be an engineer, then I ended up being a pastor) Life was going to be normal, predictable, secure, and controlled. I was going to massage every detail to fit the portrait I had imagined. This is not the life I now live.

So, what has brought this great change? How did my life move so far away from its projected destination? Two factors come to mind. First, I have no doubt that God has led me this way. If you keep up with this blog you will discover that faith is a key part of who I am. My pursuit of, or rather, walk with God has led me far from my own intentions. He is not exactly who I thought He was, and His desires for me are not what I understood. Second, Sofia is to blame. Nine years ago we left everything we knew and moved to Sofia, Bulgaria. After living here, I knew I could never go back. The noise, beauty, smell, crowds, tragedy, wonder, and dirt of this city and its residents changed the way I understood my own existence.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that life is to be lived, not controlled. My desire to arrive within the confines of my white picket fence kept me from experiencing the journey. And that is what life is, a journey. My own comfort was a narcotic that took the edge off of life. It sheltered me not only from pain and struggle, but also from true joy and celebration. It brought apathy and complacency. It kept me from loving others. My own security kept me from faith. I realized that a white picket fence is still a fence.

The life I write about in this blog is not the one of my dreams. It is much easier and more difficult, very simple and terribly confusing. I would have it no other way. My family and I love where we are and what we do. The narcotic of comfort is unavailable to so many here. Life is rawer and perhaps more real. Laughter and tears are deeper and more prevalent for us in this beautifully dark place. We love it!

Thank you for listening to my thoughts on "The Sofia Effect."

John