Yesterday I woke up in my comfy bed to the sunlight streaming in my window. There was a slight breeze and the birds were chirping away, singing their morning songs. It was at this moment that I was instantly sad. Yep, sadness took over in the midst of such a beautiful morning.
As I got up, I went through the normal routine. I sat in my chair and ate my smoothie and processed life. I seem to do some of my best processing in my chair, in the morning, with my smoothie and some George Winston on the Pandora radio station. While rocking, I asked myself, “Emily, how are you doing?”
The previous week had been filled with many goodbyes. It was emotional. If you read my last post, the week was filled with my heart attempting to catch up to my head (see 12” Gap). One minute I was fine, the next I was crying as I hugged a dear friend goodbye. “I’ll see you in a year,” we’d say, fully knowing we’ll both be different people in a year’s time.
It was amidst this pondering that an analogy came to me. I often think in analogies as a way to attempt to describe my thoughts and emotions. And then I’ll draw a picture… don’t worry; I’ve got a picture for you this time too!
So, the past two years I’ve interned with Campus Crusade for Christ doing full time campus ministry. At the beginning of the year, we look ahead at what is to come and can easily pick out the high-momentum months. As we prepare for the year ahead, we feel like we’re on a rollercoaster that is tick-tick-ticking its way to the top of the coaster. When students come, we’re hanging on as the coaster plummets down and makes it’s series of loops and turns.
I just finished the ride with Crusade. I’m in the “That was awesome/my stomachs a little queasy/let’s do it again!” phase that happens when the rollercoaster safely locks itself back on the platform. Most people get off, take a moment to savor the ride, then go again or try a new ride.
But I’m going back up. On a new coaster, never been ridden before. By myself. I’m tick-tick-ticking to the top and I don’t know what’s coming after the drop. As I look back at the platform, my friends and family are standing there waving goodbye to me. They’ll be at the platform when I get back but they won’t experience all the loops and turns they next year has for me. This makes me sad.
I’m guessing since you’re reading this that you’re probably one of those people on the platform. Thank you. Thanks for sharing in this new journey, this new ride. Believe me, a large part of me wants to get off the ride and return to the comfort and safety of the life I know.
But the other part of me can’t wait to see what’s at the top and who will join me on the journey. As I look back at the other cars on the coaster, I only know one other gal that will be joining me for the ride. But tomorrow, I get to meet the rest of my family for the year. Training Camp is first on the agenda as the World Race rollercoaster gets ready for an unforgettable ride.
So, as I go back up to the top, I’m sad to say goodbye to those of you who are waving on the platform but am excited to meet the people sitting in the seats next to me. I’m grieving the transition but ready for the next ride.
Whether you’re standing on the platform or sitting next to me, thanks for joining me in the journey! Now, on to Training Camp…
