I wasn’t born and raised here, as Randy was, but the mountains got into my blood anyway. Now we are leaving after nearly 20 years of imbibing the air and feasting on the vistas of the southern West Virginia mountains.

They say of those born here who leave, the mountains will call them back. Randy did leave here thinking he would never return. It was a Something greater than these mountains that called him back to them, and me with him. Now that same Something greater—God our Father, creator of these mountains and of all the earth—is calling us away to another place, a place with distant mountains and an abundance of flat fields.

But they are right, these Appalachian mountains have woven their magic into the fibers of our hearts—and they will always call to us. Though we had months to emotionally disengage from the ties of “place”—this place we have called home for 20 years, this place of a calling of God to labor with him in his vineyard, his harvest field—as we drive away from our now empty house, our neighbors and especially our friends and co-laborers who continue in the work, we see through misty eyes and swallow around lumps in our throats.

Neither Randy nor I have ever before been tied to “place”. Both of us moved a lot as children, and we moved so often after marriage, I gave up counting a long time ago. So living in one house for almost 20 years is a record for both of us. And we discovered we had become emotionally tied to this “place” as never before.

This place is not just the place we experienced the poignant and aching beauty of nature, but this is the place we embraced the ache of human need in the people around us, and experienced the love of God poured out—in us, and through us, and through them to us.

And this is good. For we are made in the image of God, the God of love, who gave. We followed God to these mountains and gave, and loved. And miles of distance cannot take away an iota of that love, for love is one thing that is eternal; it transcends time and space. Love is one of those things we are told will last when all else fails. It is love that binds our hearts to the mountains and people of West Virginia and it is love that compels us, the love of Christ, to now leave these mountains and people in the capable hands of co-laborers, and travel to another place where the God of love calls us. A place where there are other beauties of nature and more human need to embrace. A place where we will continue to co-labor with God in his fields of harvest.

And that is the highest love of all.

On Sunday, September 14, Randy and I left West Virginia but not the ministry of Mustard Seeds and Mountains (soon to be known as Mission as Life). We will, by God’s grace as he is leading us, be opening new doors of service in the Western and Southwestern United States. Lacy and Shawna Blankenship continue on in West Virginia, holding down the fort in our absence, awaiting the newest reinforcements to join them, Nate and Trudy Bertram and family. Nate and Trudy are just beginning to raise support in their hometown of Columbus, OH. Their goal is to move to WV by March of next year. Rejoice and pray with us that in all these changes God is magnified!

Inscrutable are Your ways, Oh Lord. (from Isaiah 40:28)