Identification

I have done it, bit the bullet and bowed to the inevitable. On Friday Afternoon after two hours of sitting and waiting I took a short test, answered a couple of medical questions and posed for a truly bad picture before walking out of the Fountain Square BMV with my new Indiana Driver License. Who ever had one year, 8 days in the pool can come and accept their prize. It was oddly sad to turn in my California License and get this strange new card. I still think of my self as Californian even though I was not born there nor currently live there. Most of my friends and family have left or are talking about leaving yet it is still some how home to me.

California is where my parents stopped drinking, it is where my mom and I found forgiveness and friendship, it is where my brother and I honed competition and respect. California is where I met Jesse and Kyle, two guys who transcend mere friendship and have truly become family to me. It is the place that I learned I could succeed, and the place where I sought and met Jesus. California is the place where I met Kate.

Somehow getting a new license for me seemed like a period on the story that is California. It was my ID, my identification it was the tangible representation of who I was and who I am. This is me, 6 foot , 235 lbs, Blue Eyes, Brown hair, needs glasses, California! Now when you look at my license there is nothing there that speaks of that time, of that place. My ID now says Indiana, I am officially a Hoosier and that is OK. I mean it is Indiana where I married Kate, where I bought my first house and spent the first year of marriage. It is Indiana where I have experienced the devastating and the sublime. And it is here where my Lord has met me anew.