Well, hello there blogging world. I intended many more posts over the break, but I suppose I got sidetracked a bit. Life happens!
This has been an emotional break for many reasons. I've never been away a from home for that long before. I've been in college for two and a half years, but the first two were at a college a few blocks away from my house. Now, I'm a long drive away in Illinois, 12 or so hours from my home in Pennsylvania. I didn't anticipate the homesickness at all. In fact, I was quite excited to be an "adult" (yea, right) for a while. I quickly learned that walking away from a place in which you experienced every year of your life is not so easy.
I miss the little things the most. I miss my puppy, Shya, greeting me at the door with eyes that told me she never thought I'd come home and that she was very glad to see she had been wrong. Nobody greets you quite like a dog. I miss crawling onto my parents' big, comfy waterbed and laying with my mom before bedtime (yes, I do this as a 20 year old; these are things I know I'll miss very much someday, and I must take advantage of them). I miss the smell of our special laundry detergent that doesn't ever smell the same anywhere but at home. I miss buttering up my daddy until he'll give me a kiss on the cheek. I miss laying on the radiator when the furnace is on, and cuddling with an afghan my mother crocheted. I miss my favorite food...toast. I didn't know until right before break that you can actually make toast in the dining commons. Ah, but not the same when your mom hasn't cut it into shapes for you.
I miss walking around town late at night to a park a few miles away and singing by the river. I miss drinking coffee and reading in the coffeeshop near my house. I miss exploring the hidden treasure that is Yesterday's Best, a small, tightly packed bookstore downtown and finding wonderful surprises. I miss visiting my mom at work in the hospital and feeling powerful for knowing the codes to get into the "special" rooms. I miss walking back from school and seeing everything in its place like every other day and basking in the consistency, something which never seems to carry over to other areas of life.
I miss my church. I miss this the most, I think. It's my home and my safe place. I miss the rolling green fields it sits on and the beautiful trees that surround it. I miss the playground that grew up in and in which I became forever friends with my "sister" Chelcee. I miss the river that runs right through it all and the picteresque bridge that crosses between the playground and everything else. I miss the gym where I played for hours and the library where I met Jesus at three. I miss the kitchen I washed many dishes in and the tables I've dirtied with countless crafts. I miss the balcony and upper room where I've had sleepovers and from which I've watched concerts. I miss the stage I sing on and the costumes that I wear for coffeehouses, whether I'm a clown or a rock star or a Bible character. I even miss the bathrooms I clean every Saturday. But most of all I miss the memories.
I miss my youth group and our crazy (and sometimes violent) game nights. I miss surprise hug attacks from Chelcee. I miss hugs from my 5 year old best friend, Lael, who holds on to me with such desperation and hunger for affection that I wish I would never have to let her go ( I had to say goodbye to her today; she cried and I cried and I think we're both still crying right now). I miss nights at dance troupe when my friend Leighton comes up with the funniest moves that we could never in a million years do just like her. I miss youth trips in the Chateau (our endearing nickname for the clunker van we travel in) and wondering if its actually safe to be riding in. The oil covered back windows point to "no". I miss nights around the camefire and listening to Leighton singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" like a crazy person.
I miss old times and people who have exited my life on Earth (eternity shall be a glorious reunion!). I miss a man who has impacted my life more than any other person. One who has been my father, my teacher, my cheerleader, and my co-star, among many other things. I look at every inch of my beloved church, and I see something he taught me there or a joke that I remember rolling on the floor laughing about or a word of encouragement he gave me. It was easy to run away to school, because I didn't have to see him everywhere there. I remember the day after he passed (a year ago this Wednesday), sitting against a post at the back of the gym with the chairs, the stage, and every memory staring back at me. Between the thoughts of disbelief and my refusal to accept what had transpired, I found time to realize that I could never walk into this place and not notice the extreme lack that came from the loss. The heart of our church body, Leroy's presence was so very vital, and it's loss is indescribable. I miss him every second, as does everyone else in our church, especially his wife, four daughters, his parents, three sisters, two nephews, 4 nieces and countless other people that he welcomed into his family. I miss life with him in it.
From all that I miss, I learn to appreciate my life and not simply my present or future but also, my past. I am humbled by the people and memories that I hold close. Many times I get bogged down by the weight of negativety that has marked my past, but in reflection I realize that there was beauty in it all. Many times I get caught in my loneliness, crying foul at loss and lack, forgetting to recognize what I do have and haven't lost. I have wonderful parents that even in the many trials they have faced still care for me and provide for me. I have a church family that again, humbles me with their genorosity and love and encouragment that they offer to me, someone who is so undeserving. I look at them and see that I have at least 5 sets of parents, dozens of siblings, and an amazing assortment of mentors who lead me in their wisdom. I get so down about having a very tumultuous and rather small natural family, but then I realize how blessed I am to have this church body behind me every step of the way. I am brought to tears and will miss them incredibly.
It's emotional, because I realize that this is the beginning of a forever kind of change. I don't know where I will be in a few years or what I will be. I don't know if I'll be a musician or a cashier or both. I don't know if I'll be finding an apartment in Illinois or moving in to one with my best friend back in Pennsylvania or doing something different in some other state. I just don't know, and it's exciting and sad and painful and joyous all at the same time. Not to mention terrifying! But I cherish every memory, good and bad. It all comes together to make me who I am, whether you see that as good or bad or in between. All I know is that missing brings tears of sadness but also happiness. We miss times gone by and that makes us sad, but it's a joyous thing to be able to remember and relive those times.
2 Peter 1: 12-16
"12 So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. 13 I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body,14 because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. 15 And I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things. 16 We did not follow cleverly invented stories when we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty."
Every memory is a testament to the majesty of Jesus. I am reminded of His glory, power, and love through every thing I find myself looking back on and missing while away. So, while change is crazy and sad and exciting and scary, I will always have the memories of my past to remind me of life's beauty and God's magnificence. Every second we live, we are "eyewitnesses of his majesty." Wow!
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