Friday, February 12, 2010

Brokenness, yet Blessing: A Story of Early Parkland

History often surprises me.

Much to the chagrin of our optimism of human progress, whatever we dreamed was idyllic about the past turns out to be regressive. Just when we thought that the problems of our city (or of the world) could somehow be solved with that universal but useless axiom:‘we just need to get back to the way things used to be’, we encounter a little history and realize, alas, our problems have been around for a while.

The story of early Parkland is one such example.

According to those who know their history, the first settlers to come to this area were a family called the Tallentires. In 1851 the Tallentires settled on six hundred, forty acres of land and began building a sustainable life. A house was constructed, children were raised, crops were planted and the American Dream on the western frontier was beginning to take shape.

Unfortunately, that dream disintegrated when Mr. and Mrs. Tallentire divorced each other in 1860, which came with not a little alarm from the other settlers. The divorce resulted in one former spouse moving to Olympia, while the other stuck around for awhile, but sold off much of the original land-claim.

Now it is not the place to ridicule this family. I share this example to make the observation that brokenness in marriage and family has been and continues to be a great epidemic in this area. So it actually should not be surprising that the first family in the history of Parkland was plagued by it. I also share this example to illustrate my point that solutions to our problems – at least this problem - most likely will not come merely by reaching into the past, because the past had the same problems. Unless we’re trying to get back to the Garden of Eden, I do not believe that history can help us with this one.

But lest we end this tale on a depressing note, there was, amidst this broken story, another family who experienced great blessing. Once again, history is surprising.

After the Tallentires, came a few other families – one of them the Crofts family. The Crofts’, who settled in the area two years after the Tallentires, had lost their third child. So, one of the neighboring families at the time, the Sales family, feeling sorry for the Crofts decided that if their next child was a boy they would give him to them to raise as a foster child; but if it was girl they would not give her away. And so it was that a boy was born to the Sales’ and was given to the Crofts’ to raise as their own. They named him James E. Sales and he grew up to become a prominent figure in this area. There is now an elementary school in Parkland that bears his name. What the Crofts’ thought would be a discouraging absence of children in their family now came a great blessing of a son delivered by the kindness and generosity of their neighbors.

Thus the story of Parkland began with brokenness, yet blessing – a kind of paradox at the very beginning of the life of a community.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

For the love of Parkland

It has been said that men do not love Rome because she's great; Rome is great because men love her.

With unabashed zeal, I announce the same for Parkland: I do not love Parkland because she is great; Parkland is great because I love her.

I have not heard many people say good things about Parkland, except that it boasts one of the best mini-golf courses in the South Sound—the infamous Parkland Putters. Other than that Parkland leaves much to be desired.

And rightly so, if one values great cities based on what one can get out of a city. But to abide in a city only to get or receive or consume would be the wrong purpose, the opposite of what it means to live in a city or to call one’s city home. This would be to not love one’s city, and to be apathetic, because the opposite of love is indifference, which can be expressed in passivity and listless boredom.

But love, at its core, is expressed in self-giving, sacrifice, suffering, which all means that it comes with great cost. Love is a passion—which at its root means suffering, not joy.

Many people say they ‘love’ their city only to mean they appreciate its beauty or majesty, which they could easily say about New York or Paris or London. But I daresay they would hardly give their lives for their city.

Unless they believe in her transformation and well-being.

I want to believe in Parkland’s transformation. I want to seek her peace. I want to love Parkland even if it costs me something. I want to spend my life for this place. I want to love her for better or for worse, for rich or for poor. I want to be for her like I’m for my wife.

I want to live in, work in, play in, rest in and serve this great city. And I will pray for this great city, for her transformation.

I believe Parkland will be great, because we will love her well.

*This blog is for the sake of Parkland, and everyone who lives in her, loves her, or perhaps at times dislikes her.