College graduation. It used to seem like it would never happen. It used to seem as though it would never arrive. Ladies and gents, we're at a three week countdown. On May 15, I will sit in a cap and gown amidst hundreds of graduating seniors. I will wear a black robe with my ridiculously neon bright chucks for good measure. There will be dozens of pictures, and hours of sitting. The University of Wisconsin shall no longer be my home.
It's funny though, time. It plays with my head, and to the best of my knowledge, it plays with yours as well. Maybe not everyday, but sometimes. I could've sworn I just started this whole thing, just moved into the dorms, just left home. But no. It's been three years. Three glorious, ridiculous, fun-filled, life-giving years, full of new experiences, new knowledge, new friends. I loved it.
My throat constricts when I think about next year. As I start to tell others about the Race, or as I attempt to convey what I'm feeling, I find myself rendered speechless. 20 weeks. Four and a half months. It's such a short span of time until I'm leaving it all behind for 11 months and embarking on something that will most likely revolutionize my life. I doubt I'll ever be the same. I get so excited about all of it. I spend hours talking with my roommates about what it could look like, and about what the Lord is doing in my life through simply preparing for this. Even in these past few months, I feel as though my eyes have been made new; I've learned so much, and I know this is only the tip of the iceberg.
I look forward to September (as well as July, and training camp with my squad) with every fiber of my being. I can barely contain it sometimes. It causes me to dance down sidewalks on my way to class, or in my room with music blaring. It makes me randomly break out in song, or a smile. I seriously can't get over the fact that I'll be leaving in September to go on a journey around the world with 70 other twenty-somethings (and a few thirty-somethings). It doesn't yet seem real. I want to fast-forward through this summer and leave tomorrow. I can’t keep it in.
This is where the nostalgia sets in. Nostalgia 1) is a weird word to even say, but it’s fun nonetheless 2) sets in when I really would rather it not do so 3) catches me by surprise every time, somehow. You think I’d prepare for it, know when it would hit and be able to moderate it or something. Nope, not so easy. It hits, and it hits hard.
I’m having a hard time moving on. I want to sit on Bascom Hill and soak in the sunshine for weeks, I want to spend time at the new union with all my friends and goof off, and go exploring. I want to take classes and learn from teachers and read more books. I want to stay. I feel so torn. As soon as I know that I can’t have something anymore, I want it. I feel like I'm wearing graduation goggles. They tint everything with a rosy coloring. Everything here seems so perfect; everything is flawless. All of a sudden, I don't mind doing my homework, or going to class. More time is what I think I want. Yet, this isn't even true. I know that when I am handed my diploma, I'll be ecstatic. I know that it's time to move on. It's time for a change and a leap of faith beyond what I would've thought myself capable of mere months ago.
The tug of war continues. Yet, the unknown enthralls and excites me; the future intrigues me. Letting go and allowing the Lord to use me as he sees fit? I couldn't ask for a better way to spend my time here on earth. I want for John 10.10 to be true of my life.
Jesus says, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
That's my desire. I know that while I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here, stagnation is never healthy. I know that change is something that I desire to pursue, and that when Christ leads me to a new adventure, I need to go. The best place I could be is in step with His will. He promises life to the full, and I want that, desperately.
So, I'll take off the goggles and jump into a new adventure.
