Goodbyes are never easy...

I've said a lot of goodbyes in my life. I've said a lot of hellos, as well.

But I realized something: Goodbyes never get easier. 

And I don't know why, for me, they seem to be getting harder. You'd think I'd get better at them the more of them I give, but I think I've learned some lessons over the years.

I've learned...
1) some goodbyes are going to be forever.
2) it's not just the big goodbyes that matter.
3) you don't know when it's forever.
4) each person deserves to know what they mean to you.

I've gotten much more emotional over the last four years. And maybe it's because of the goodbyes that I wasn't able to say.

See, last year, as I drove myself up north, back to the town of my birth, I saw the sign that announced I was back in my hometown, and I started to cry. Thinking about it now makes me cry. Part of it is because the last time I had left that town (in 2009) was the last time I had seen my grandmother alive. I was coming back to a town that was forever changed from what I knew. I had never even been able to say goodbye. It hurt to drive in knowing that it would never be the same. Not like that.

I spent the summer hanging out with my family. My aunt and uncle, cousins, second cousins, my sister and her kids, my other sister and her kids, my brother, my dad, my other aunts and uncles... in and out of homes and living the life. I left at the end of the summer broken-hearted that I wouldn't be there for the foreseeable future. Going back this weekend makes me insanely happy.

All these goodbyes in my life have made the hellos so much sweeter; no matter if they are new or old.

Hellos are definitely my favorite, but I will relish every goodbye. Goodbyes mark chapters in our lives, periods of significance. Goodbyes are probably one of the most important things we say, because they let us know our lives are changing and moving. They are the rocks in our rivers, causing rapids that help keep us moving and make it interesting.

Enjoy the rapids.

Stagnant

Let's get real for a minute...

When I first arrived back stateside (almost 13 months ago), I understood exactly why people need furloughs. I was burnt out on certain things and needed to be refreshed. I wanted to hear only English for a while, and I wanted to eat all the food I'd been missing. I wanted a chance to do nothing but rest and catch up.

I knew I was about to enter a time of learning, a new season. My brain would be expanding, and, hopefully, my heart would, too. I was ready to be in this time, and I knew it was a necessary time for me. I knew it was my next step (that didn't make it any easier, but at least I knew it was right). So, I rested, and then I set out on my Divinity School journey.

It has been a great journey. Not always easy, but great, and so worth the time, effort, and money. I have a great community around me. I hope I am an important part of my community. I have a great church community around me that I feel more attached to than ever. I've made amazing new friends, and some of them have become more like family to me than I could have imagined at the beginning of this year.

This summer, as I sit here on my couch (and yes, procrastinating something else I should be doing), I realize that a few hours ago I voiced a concern that I hadn't noticed until that moment:

I feel stagnant. 

I feel like I'm not moving right now. I'm sitting here doing what I'm supposed to do. I am staying busy even though I am not working. There are things in my life that give me great joy. Things I enjoy doing immensely. And yet, I feel like there's supposed to be something more. I feel like my time of resting is over. I'm ready to pour out myself again. I've been fed. I've been taught. I'm ready to be used again. My vessel is overflowing, and I want to do.

Over the last month I have done a lot of things that have made me feel right. Those moments that are work, but are so easy that they can't be otherwise.

So I wonder, what's next? 

Where do I go from this very spot? What is the step forward? What is the right step forward? What am I looking for? Is there somewhere that is looking for what I have to offer? What is it that I have to offer?

I don't have the answers, but this is where I am right now. Feeling like the next step needs to be soon, but not pushing it, either. I don't want to jump too soon at something that isn't right. I don't know that I necessarily want to go back to being a 'boss' or in a supervisory role of some sort, but I think I'm ready to do something meaningful again. Not stuffing envelopes. Not simply answering phones. Something real. The menial things are part of nearly every job, but I don't want my job title to be "pencil sharpener."

I'm ready to travel. And part of it is my literal stagnation. Other than 2 trips up north (one last summer, and one in January), I have not been anywhere since my return. I'm itching to literally move. I need to go somewhere. It does not help that my heart is aching to be overseas again. And that others want me there, as well. I have been still more this year than I have been in years. I think I haven't been in one place for an entire year since the calendar year of 2006. That is a long time ago.

I need to do something. These two things together make me really restless.

It could also be that I've already had nearly two months of summer vacation.

I feel like the seasons are ready to change. It's as if I can feel the humidity in my life waiting for the bottom to drop out and let the flowers grow.

The seeds have rested in the soil. It is time to break through the shell. So where will my flowers be?

The atoms of life

"Somewhere along the way I lost the idea that the big things are grand things. Along the way I learned that little things are often greatest. I am not overwhelmed by the beauty of the falls, but by the specks of water that make them. I am not overwhelmed by humanity but by people. Not by sunlight, but by the light of the spirit. The atoms of life that make us. The acts that create us. The littlest things. Life overwhelming." - Me

I was sitting here today, looking through some pictures from my past endeavors throughout the world, and I was really interested in this one of Niagara Falls from last summer. I was looking at the picture, realizing that it isn't the falls that make me marvel. It is the power of the falls. And what makes the power but each part of the falls. It is the little things that make all the difference. 

It is not the big things in the world that overwhelm us. It is the little ones. The smallest speck of water, many of them coming together, that's what makes the falls. The best parts of my travels have been the little things. Picking up a piece of glacier and licking it, essentially drinking water from thousands of years ago. Sitting in the jungle of NZ, or the mountains of Australia, the penguins of Philip Island, the beaches of southern Asia, or the rocky roads of Europe. These were the little moments. It wasn't things like the Taj Mahal (which is beautiful, don't get me wrong), but it is the smaller things that stick out in my mind. I don't remember the Tower of London the same way I remember the family I stayed with in a small village in southern England. 

The little things. 

The friend who brings smiles to your day. 
The person who laughs at the stupid joke. 
Letting someone with children in front of you in line. 
The blade of grass that is perfectly green. 
The counter melody that allows the melody to sing. 
The ostinato of life that keeps you moving. 

The little marvels. 

The atoms of life. 

Blessed.