"Later, I showed the pictures we'd taken…You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place…like, you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be the same again."
You Still Hurt Me – William Fitzsimmons
I feel as if I need to grieve. Mourning, weeping, wailing. I mean not the feeling of grieving that comes from absurd negative tragedy. Nor the soggy eyed grief of traditional loss.
I'm actually in a really good season right now.
That terrifies me.
Sometimes when the world is so violently opposed to my joy…
Pain becomes more comforting then the sweetest moments.
The times of joy are marred and stained by the silent ticking clock of impending loss. The shadow of death hovers over the brightest moments. It leeches the refreshing hope from the most encouraging moments of life.
I feel terrified.
The stationary waters I blissfully drift upon are disturbed by quiet whispers in the dead of night, "Can you really rest? What will hit you next? Wake you fool! Rise and look around, for this world offers no comfort."
My knuckles have turned white from clasping onto that old creed of David.
"I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living! Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!"
Sometimes I struggle with that question, "Does God really bless his children? Does he intend good things on earth for them before heaven?"
"Should we not accept the bad from the Lord as well as the good?"
Then when the blessing comes I struggle to receive it.
I struggle to accept the good, far more than the bad.
I'm so prone to find Jesus in loss. It jerks my whole world around to even fathom finding him in the daily downtime of peace and clean living. If the hurricane of sorrow and loss isn't pressing upon me, I find the dull haze of apathy numbing my senses.
This summer is coming to a close and so much good has happened. As the last few weeks slowly trickle away, I realize that everything is changing. Big changes. Some of the greatest friends I've lived and spent the last year with will live on without me.
This has been a year of growing. Of wildflowers and sunshine. Bright fields of resplendent green. A harvest of singing and dance. A transition between one journey and the next.
Today the blank space between two chapters of life is fading. What seemed mere filler and unspent ink turned into one of the most thought provoking, challenging, peaceful page in life yet.
I work at camp every summer I get a chance to.
The snicker-snack of my mind flashes to the scent of bleach and burnt vacuum hoses.
Soon the familiar smell of cleaning supplies and half-unsaid goodbyes will flood this place. Camp will shut down. I will find myself on another airplane, near, in the words of Tyler Durden, another serving size friend. I will sleep in a different bed. A different room. A land not my own. A place not my home.
I love the people here. I desperately love them. So much so that leaving feels tender and tinged with heartbreak.
It always does.
Taiwan. Seattle. Dallas. New York. North Carolina. Florida. Word of Life. Impact. IDP. 1st Year. 2nd Year.
I've said more goodbyes then I thought possible for a lifetime in less than a decade. It always stings a little. Not a bitter sting. For we all know in a mere handful of years the father will gather us together. We will sing, rejoice, dance, and forever be together. Yet for now?
It hurts.
It hurts to get a shot, even though it won't kill and it is temporary. Sometimes I give too much credit to the hope of heaven killing the pain of earth. Pain simply hurts and always will.
That's ok. Even Jesus wept at things we feel hindsight entitles us to wonder about.
"Really, Lazarus? He was just gonna come back to life anyways."
If Jesus grieved the temporary loss of a good friend and felt indignant at the death that fell upon him, shouldn't I grieve all the more?
I don't just love what I do, who I'm with, and where I'm at. For once I love who I am.
And I'm learning I need to grieve this.
I need to mourn and wail and weep for the loss of the good times that came for honest innocent good reasons. I don't need to be struck with another "tragedy" before I am brought to quite soulful contemplation. I love the hustle and bustle of life. The noisy messy chaos that transpires on a day to day basis is far more restful then a thirty minute period of quite reflection.
I'm learning I need to walk into that quite though. Sit with God. Tell Jesus how grateful I am for life, camp, Seattle, friends, this year, loss, gain. Just sit and thank him.
Then think about how it is going away. The evanescence. The uncomfortable long goodbye that bids me hello along every new stretch of life. I'm learning to just be where I'm at. To live today. Tomorrow will come, yesterday will dim, but today is what I have.
Just think. Cry. Weep. Wail. Not over hurt or even loss. Just over change.
Change.
Change is hard, it's different, it's scary.
So that's where I'm at.
God, it's hard to leave these people.
It's hard to leave anyone. It's hard to push through one more day knowing that we will not be together again. Knowing we won't be the same people. Knowing that some of these little ones will no longer walk with you. Knowing some of these little ones will rise to be heroes of the faith. Knowing some of these little ones will walk through the refining fire of life and be not near a comforting soul. Knowing some of these little ones will lose everything to gain so much more.
Knowing distance will separate and time will march.
Instead of deadening my emotions, instead of compartmentalizing it, instead of over-spiritualizing all of that. I'll just say,
It hurts.
It really does. No cliche or Jesusy words really erase that. It's a good hurt though. A hopeful pain of life that fully fleshes out the painting that we all live. Are not the light tones just as valuable as the dark?
It hurts to leave everyone, America, Seattle, Florida, Dallas. It hurts to experience a change of place every few months. It hurts to see good things come to a close and even bad times come to a close. It hurts to get older.
Yet it is ok. That's life. Life.
It's all right.
For lack of a better term, it just feels like joyful hurt. That melancholy second breath fighting through a half-grin half-frown after finishing something intense. That down-time feeling after a book series like Harry Potter finishes and you have been through so much life with these characters, to end it now, seems both a celebration and a sorrow. The credits of a good movie rolling by. As we move onto the next chapter of all our lives, I feel that.
I just need to vent, relinquish, release a full and pressurized heart to the God of this universe. Maybe we all do.
Maybe you feel caught between yesterday and tomorrow, transitioning to new places. Maybe the hurricane of life is throwing you around. Maybe it's a time of peace. We can lose the blessing in the suffering and the good times if we keep our eyes shut and our thank you's minimal. Life hurts sometimes. Grieve that. Thank God for everything, thank him for the journey, and embrace the ride and adventure you've had so far. You never know if tomorrow will come. Maybe you need to just feel. Ever think that? Haven't cried in too long. Haven't cared enough. Well, feel. Let it out. Grieve. Weep for change, rejoice for change.
Call an old frenemy and apologize. Say hi to your mom, because every conversation you miss is one you'll never have. Share Jesus with someone you long too. Embrace the times of peace and the times of bad. Life is short. So short. It's over the same moment it started.
And so many of us miss it.
Never Knew – The Rocket Summer
Just Forget For A Moment Forget Who You Are – The Rocket Summer
