Doma: HOME

Jamie and I are living the quintessential transient life; each week we are on the move: next is Waynesburg, then to Tennessee, then an excursion to Ohio, then to Erie, then to Pittsburgh and, finally, the apex of it all, the Czech Republic. Currently, Pine Springs is our humble abode and it has been a blessing. I worked as a counselor at Pine Springs for three years and Jamie has worked as program staff for a year; so, whenever we get the chance to come and visit, we take up the offer.

Pine Springs was the place where I met Jan Dus and his wonderful children, it was here that I found tangible Christian community and it was here where I had relationships with hundreds of wonderful children. And, in coming back, I've realized that nothing has changed.

When you drive to Pine Springs, the road to take is Route 30, as it winds its way through the bucolic Pennsylvania countryside and then into the foothills of the Appalachian mountains, known in PA, as the Alleghenies. I forgot how much I missed the sight of gently rising slopes and long chains interspersed with valleys and rolling farm land; it is beautiful. I could not help but think about how much I will miss this scene when me and Jamie move to Czech Republic; but, then, I have to remind myself that the Czech Republic, topographically, and climate wise is much like Pennsylvania. It was along this train of thought, when my conscious was jarred back 6 years.



In 2002, I was a 18 years old and my grandma was alive at the dignified age of 81. She was a women of much faith, yet, one who knew her fair share of hardship. In 1969 she had been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease (ALS) and was only expected to live until 1971. ALS is a ruthless killer; it can subdue victims in less than six months upon diagnosis and most only live about 3 years with the affliction, which explains the sobering death expectancy she received from doctors long ago. Ironically, my Grandma out lived many of those same doctors who gave her the somber news; she was a medical miracle. Instead of only living until 1971, she lived long enough to see her son grow up and have triplets (me!!), witnessed the fall of the Berlin wall and understood the impacts of the proliferation of the internet. However, the age of 81 was not kind to her, and I knew that it wouldn't be long until she passed.

When I think back to her last year on this earth, I am drawn towards a conversation I had in the winter. I used to ask my Grandma about history; I wanted to know what WWII was like, how she lived in the depression and how she met my grandfather; but, on this occasion, she spoke about her childhood. I had known for many years that her region of birth was not the United States; in fact, she was born in what was then known as Czechoslovakia. Where she was born, I do not know, but she spoke of herself as a Czech and spoke a little of the language. Her parents emigrated to the United States in the early 1920s to pursue a better life. They settled in the town of Alquippa, which is located about 15 miles north of Pittsburgh on the Ohio River, as it was the site of J&L Steel company, which employed 10,000 workers at its height. So, my Great Grandfather took a job and settled his young family; he spoke very little English. To this day, much of my Grandmother's family still resides in what is known as "West Aliquippa," the section of the town that was set aside for Eastern Europeans: mostly Czechs and Slovaks.

My Grandma's story is not very different from many of the families that now reside in the steel towns along the Ohio river. Consequently, in Pittsburgh, many families take pride in their past and their families original ethnicity. So, in a way, I was proud of my Grandma and asked her about the Czech Republic. She was too young to really remember, but she passed down to me what her parents and neighbors told her about the "old country", which my Dad still says when talking about the Czech Republic. She spoke of winters, and rolling hills; farmers and folk tales; historically-based traditions, art, the Catholic Church, but she spurned the beer. Then, I remember her saying that her father was content with living in Western Pennsylvania, because it reminded him so much of his home: there are hills, winters, Catholic Churches and beer. I can't say for sure whether my Great Grandfather really did feel that Western Pennsylvania was his home, but I will soon have an inclination as to what he might have felt.
Jamie and I, unlike my Grandma, will not be moving to the Czech Republic to find a better life or to flee from oppression, but we will have a mission and purpose. Whether Policka will become a new "home" to us is a question that we can ask in the future. Yet, I would be remiss not to be cognizant of God's working hand in my life and in my family's. Who would have thought that the Grandson of a Czech woman would now be moving to the "old country" from whence she came? Who could have imagined that my Great Grandfather would struggle to learn English, just as I am now struggling to learn his native Czech? I firmly believe that history does not move in a cycle; that fortune's wheel, so often spoken of in history, might be a fallacy, but I can see that in some ways individual lives can work in cyclical patterns, which God uses to help his people experience personal insight; to reveal how a rooted past is necessary for the future; or for an apocalyptic vision into how God's hand has masterfully woven love, family, history and calling all into one beautiful whole. I think my Grandma would be proud.




Jan's family is at Pine Springs the same week that Jamie and I have been; we both have thoroughly enjoyed practicing our Czech with his kids. They seem to be impressed, which is good, considering Jamie and I have studied hard!

The excitement and nervousness are building....

-Jeremy