Some of you may remember several months ago, when I abjectly groveled to all of you in this little blogsphere to apply for the NNPCW Associate position and the Young Women’s Ministries Internships, both of which are becoming vacant with the immanent departure of Brianne and myself. Just about the time you were getting used to our obnoxious phone calls…

Anyway, I wanted to let you all know that someone was paying attention. Friends, we have a new NNPCW associate! Noelle Tennis Gulden will start July 5, will shadow me at the Leadership Event, and then will assume full responsibility for the Network after I leave on July 21.

Noelle did her undergrad work at Azusa Pacific University in California, followed by an MDiv at Princeton Theological Seminary. Her impressive resume includes a background in community organizing, work with the Interfaith Center on Corporate Responsibility, and facilitating work with students preparing to work in international ministries. She has a passion for working with young women, and brings great interpersonal and listening skills to the position. In short, she rocks.

And of course, she will be your new blogger. Maybe someday I’ll start another blog, but without the discipline that comes from having it as part of my full time job I don’t know how often I would keep it up.

As Noelle begins her time with the Network, I am working on ending this chapter of my life to fully enter into the new. Perhaps nothing is more symbolic of this change than my decision to… sell my car. Yes, that’s right, I’m making plans to sell the ‘Stang that so many NNPCW members know and love.

There are many good reasons to sell the Mustang, of course. First of all, the combination of good public transportation, impossible city parking, and downright awful local drivers makes Boston an ideal city in which to go car-less. The Mustang is also a terrible poor-weather car, and Boston’s winters last from November to April. Car taxes are terribly expensive. I can decrease American dependence on oil and reduce carbon monoxide emissions. And finally, David already has a car that is newer than mine. There is no good reason to keep my car.

Nonetheless, despite all these excellent rationales, I still can’t help but feel like I’m selling a dear old friend. Now surely I’m not the only one out there who tends to personify my car—I’ve heard too many friends lovingly talk about “Bessie” and “Elsa” to see this as an isolated phenomenon. Those of you who have known me for any length of time know how I love my car, how I used to tenderly wash it every week so that it would shine as it drove down the street. Now I’m taking it in on Saturday to be detailed, so that I can cruelly put an ad in the paper to sell it off to the highest bidder. It just doesn’t seem to be fair to a car that has taken me so far.

It is a strange thing, the devotions some of us have for our cars. Perhaps it is symbolic of the increasing mobility, isolationism, and materialism of our culture. In lives where we move a lot, don’t get too close to people, and seek security in material possessions, it makes sense that we would attribute the values we long for—loyalty, stability, reliability—to the inanimate object that always follows us on our journey. Our cars become extensions of ourselves, reflecting our habits and silently absorbing our frustrations. It is kind of a sad commentary, really, on how lonely we’ve become.

For me, the Mustang also represents a phase in my personal and spiritual journey—the time I left everything behind to come to a new city and start over. That was the first time in my life when I felt the freedom of a true adult, cruising across the country in my little black ‘Stang with all my possessions squashed in the back behind me. My Mustang represents the independence, growth, and increasing self-confidence of that time as I forged a new identity for myself.

Now I’m moving into another chapter of life, one better represented by a Honda Accord than a sportscar. And as exciting as that new chapter is, it means just a bit of letting go of the old. That isn’t always easy. But it is time.

The ‘Stang, however, is looking for a loving home, so if you’re interested… you know where to find me.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:… a time to keep, and a time to throw away.” --Ecclesiastes 3:1, 6b

Kelsey