Change

I was going through some old files on my computer when I came across a file name I didn't recognize and that hadn't been opened since April of 2006. It is entitled Going Home. Pardon me if it seems a little too serious, I have my melancholy moments like everyone else (and maybe more than some others). But it struck me for the way it captured how I felt in a moment nearly two years ago, give or take a couple months, as college was coming to an end for me at UNL. It captures how I tend to react to change--something that I will deal with again soon (and fairly consistently hereafter). But, I thought I would take a risk and share it with you.

I tell myself as I leave that I’ll always remember this moment and feel the way I do now when I return, if I can return, that memories will be enough. I won’t be a fool. I know things must change for me to continue. This is my excuse to be sentimental, to ache at a remembrance of something I’ve lost. This is my rendition of transition from what I thought I knew so well and that could never end, to what remains so vague it scares me, excites me, despairs me, ignites me. A sorrow scattered hope explains me. Now resting and confident; now vulnerable and impotent. Beneath it all is the sense that a part of me is dying, or hiding dormant to be never awakened. Waiting for a change in me, an improvement that betrays direction—this sustains me, this place that awaits me. I am wounded but I am not dead.

I know it seems a bit much, haha, but it's how I felt. The memory and the moment intrigued me though, considering where I've been, what I've learned, and where I am going--even since then. Try it. Maybe consider a specific moment from the recent or distant past. Look where God has brought you and the hope you have for where He will take you from here.