Boredom

There really is an "end" to the internet.  I've seen every good (and bad) movie on Netflix.  I'm tired of ESPN and Sports Center highlights.  I've wandered aimlessly through shopping malls and along mountain trails for long enough.  I am sick and tired of updating my Facebook and Twitter status.  I have absolutely no interest in making another meal for one person.

I am bored out of my freaking mind.

Not that there isn't enough work today.  Trust me, I would work a lot more if there was more to do.  At some point all the work is done and you are left surfing youtube for funny videos about cats or roasts of your favorite actor or upcoming trailers for movies or new songs to learn or....

When you are bored it is easy to get in trouble or to get lazy.  I guess that is why so many people take up hobbies.  I don't have a hobby.  Not that it isn't cool for some people, but stamp or coin collecting, or collecting anything really, just never appealed to me.  Neither does wood work or knitting or fixing up old cars or painting.

I play guitar, piano and write songs for a living, so learning a musical instrument isn't really high up on the list of "new" things to do.

I go to the gym, but I refuse to live at the gym.  (Actually now that I think about it, I wonder if some of those huge guys who do almost live at the gym are as bored as I am and they have chosen the gym as the way to deal with it)

I could take Karate (again) but seriously, I'm 44.  I'd probably break something...important.  Like numerous parts of my body.

Maybe this is when guys my age go through their "mid-life crisis" and buy a sports car and a new wife. I just bought a mini-van and I have a gorgeous wife already.

I already went back to school (which is what my wife labels as my mid life crisis).

I've begun working on becoming an ordained minister within my denomination, a rather monumental task when I compare my tribe with just about every other denomination and church I know.  There are a lot of books to read, a lot of reports to write, exams to prepare for, and conferences to attend.  This takes away some of the "spare" time, but it does not eliminate it.

I know, however, that this boredom is especially noticeable because I am living in Vegas while Jo and the kids are living 3,000 miles away waiting for their green cards so that we can be together again and we've been like this for 10 months now and so inevitably (usually on my days off), I find myself aimless and alone and to be honest I am bored of being bored.

I am bored of writing blog updates about how bored I am.
And yet, this is an honest part of what it is like to live apart for a year.


           

The Airport

I flew back to Vegas from Edmonton for the last time Thursday.  This was my last trip up to see the family before I drive up to pick them up, go to our interview, and then drive back "home" to Vegas.  It was bitter sweet (not really).  The Edmonton airport has become like a third home to me (actually not in a million years).
While I was back in Edmonton this time we received approval from the Immigration Office to submit our applications, paperwork, and supporting documents electronically, so we spent most of this past week scanning document after document and attaching them to emails in the proper order with the proper file names.
We are now finished everything that we can do on our side and so we wait for the Government to tell us when our interviews will be.

As I approached the Immigration officer at the airport for the last time he asked me the usual questions about why I was in Canada and I told him my story, and that is when things got interesting.  I quote our conversation as best as I can remember it.

Officer:  What stage of the process are you guys in?
Me (wanting to sound professional):  We just finished the I-864 and DS-260.
Officer: Have you done the I-130?
Me: A few months ago
Officer:  I just got the I-130 approval for my wife who is also Canadian.  We were hoping we were almost done.
Me:  I wish.  There is still a bunch of stuff to do before the interviews in Montreal.
Officer:  Montreal?
Me:  Only place in Canada that does interviews.
Officer (slamming my passport down on the table and pushing himself back in his chair): &@*!$
Me:  Exactly.
Officer: I can't go to Vancouver or Calgary?
Me: No, the government closed down those consulates ability to do interviews.
Officer: That sucks.

At this point I am suddenly aware that there is a line up of people behind me waiting to go through immigration who are now shuffling their feet and whispering nervously as it appears I am about to be arrested, or at best, am never going to be allowed into the U.S. because it looks like the Immigration officer and I are having an argument about something and IT IS NEVER GOOD TO ARGUE WITH IMMIGRATION OFFICERS.....EVER!!!

Me:  Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
Officer:  No, actually you've been a big help.  Hope everything goes smooth for you and the family and you are back together soon.  Have a great day.
Me:  Good luck buddy.

We shake hands and I leave.  The Immigration officer calls the next person, who I can tell is longingly looking at the other Immigration officers and wishing to God they had been called by any other officer and the not the guy who just looked like he tore a strip off of me.

As I walked into the waiting area I was keenly aware of how that officer felt.  You keep thinking this process is almost over and then...WHAM!!! something else pops up to slow you down.

So I say this with my fingers and toes crossed:  I think we are almost done the process.  (I just knocked on wood).  I can say with all confidence that we are ready to be done.  We are ready to be a family again.  This separation thing sucks.

Home

I've been a gypsy most of my life.  Born in Boston, missionary kid in Asia, back and forth between Canada and the United States most of my adult life.  The concept of "home" for me is very fluid.  It tends to be wherever I am living at the moment.  When people ask me where I am from I usually answer with my current location, to which they reply "you've lived in Vegas your whole life?"  To which I reply "no" to which they reply "so where are you from?" To which I reply "Vegas" to which they reply...well, I think you get the idea.

Right now I am back in Canada visiting Jo and the kids for what will hopefully be the last time before I am able to actually come back here and pick them up and bring them back to Vegas with me permanently. Every morning as I wake up next to Jo and see her sleeping I am reminded that home is where she is. It isn't a house or a city.  It isn't a country.  My home is where my wife is.

In the same way I am a gypsy on this earth.  My true home is where my God is.  Every time I read His Word, connect with Him in a moment of worship, hear His voice in a lyric or melody, sense His presence as I gaze at the stars at night, I am reminded that where I live right now is just an address, its just a location in a city on a planet far away from my true home.  

I am a gypsy, but someday I will be home.  

I imagine, at times, that God is looking down at all of us on this earth and saying to himself "I can't wait until I can go down there and bring them back home with me."

I know it because I feel the same way about Jo and the kids who I love with all that I am and because I know that Jesus loves us with all that He is too.

Home is where the ones you love and the ones who love you are together.  That is what I want most in this life and the next.