take my hand let's walk awhile together/holding hands won't make it last forever

here I am, procrastinating the last tiny bit of homework, too comfortable under my mountain of blankets to make dinner even though I'm starving, updating this blog that practically nobody reads anymore (the "practically" is for you, Katie!).



I can't believe the end of school is only three weeks away. In two weeks I'll be spending my last weekend with my amazing worship team family. In three weeks I'll be getting ready to head down to Portland for the last time in a long time. In four weeks I'll be having a going-away party and fretting about packing. In five weeks I'll be getting on a plane and going far away for the whole summer. And my life will be changing, drastically, overnight.



I really can't fool myself anymore - this is all actually happening, and as excited as I am, it's all a little scary, and really rather melancholy. This is my home; I love the northwest, and I love my family, and I love my friends, and my church more than almost anything. I'm leaving so much, and sometimes in my head I wonder what it's for. Adventure? The things I've dreamed of seeing since I was little. And then college, less than six months away (application almost done and scholarships begun).....and MN is so freaking far away, and sooooo cold. And I know this is where God wants me, but it's hard to follow, no matter how exciting it seems, because it's so unknown. I am comfortable with the known, like anyone, but I am also just so happy here, and so surrounded and enveloped in love, that I never want to leave.



But that's not really my choice to make. Not if I choose to recognize my Creator and my Savior as my Lord. We are all so comfortable having a savior, and mostly comfortable with having a creator, but few people really live like they have a lord. I'm so grateful for the people in my life who do live that way, or I would be so lost right now.



Last weekend I was on worship, and it was a beautiful weekend with my "family" at church. It's amazing to me, how close we have all grown to each other in the past two years. We ordered pizza from our usual after-service hangout but instead of going there spent Saturday evening at Jo and Chad's house, which is near the church. We were thinking about watching a recorded seminar of this guy who works with worship teams and live performing groups around the country, but somehow we just ended up spending the whole night talking and just being with each other. Talking about me leaving so soon, Roger (the team leader) realized, or rather - let it sink in for the first time - that I am actually leaving, that I actually will only be playing with the team one more time before I leave. And after a couple of minutes I looked over at him and realized that he was crying, so I grabbed his hand and we just sat that way for so many minutes.



This is the melancholy of my leaving. This is all the heartache, when I see my mom or Roger crying while it's sinking in, or the denial that's still in some of my friends' faces. When I get an email signed with love from someone who means it deeply, and that look people get when they say "we should do .........before you leave." Those three little words, "before you leave," so loaded with poignancy now, now that leaving is actually a real, impending action, and not just some idea for the future.







I really don't want it to sounds like I'm miserable here. I'm not. But this week, especially yesterday, has been very emotional for me as I realize just what I'm getting myself into, how little time there is left, and how this road I've chosen may be a lot more hard and less fun than I had imagined, once-upon-a-time.



I used to think it was hardest knowing that some of my friends wouldn't last through my childhood, and I'd wonder which ones I'd still be friends with as an adult - you know, who I'd want in my wedding and stuff like that. But now I am an adult, and I know that these people who are like family to me will always be that, we will always love each other, even if I'm on the other side of the world. But I think it's even harder knowing that I'll have to be away from these people, that separation will hurt like hell, because it means that we are close to each other in ways that I think only God's children seeking God's will can be.



Thankfully, God is the one in control here, and His plan includes His children in all of eternity together. But this tiny fragment of eternity can seem so long and so dark sometimes.



"We are blessed to have family like friends....and friends like family."