That was Then This is Now

“This is the moment you have be preparing for your whole life,” the speaker says. But in this moment, with my cap and gown on, the only things running through my mind are, “The bruises from last week’s 5K aren’t covered by the gown,” “You can see my feet peeling from the fungus I picked up in Africa even with my shoes on,” and “I forgot to brush my teeth this morning.” If that wasn’t enough I then realized I forgot to shower; it had now been two and a half days since my last one. For the most “important” moment of my life, I am not prepared.
 
I still remember jumping up on the counter while my mom cooked telling her how excited I was that in two years I’d be in double digits. I know that day was over ten years ago, but it doesn’t feel that long ago. A lot has changed since that day. I’ve changed. When I was eight I dreamed of doing a million things with my life: becoming a vet or a nurse; I even dreamed about being in the FBI. At eight I had to be reminded to brush and shower, my feet were always stained with dirt, and my legs were always bruised or scrapped from my latest fall from my scooter.  Now, ten years later, I find myself no longer with the longing to go to college; I’ve become a pacifist and a person whose heart isn’t in America, but instead around the world with the people I’ve met and the people I know I will soon meet.
 
The difference in who I was and who I am now isn’t just age. It’s God. God’s the one who has changed my heart, not only that, but has broken my heart for injustices around the world. It is so broken that this fall, instead of college, I’m going out into the nations – the place where my heart is. I look down at my feet and laugh to myself at my appearance. Though I have changed inwardly, that dirty, smelly, messy girl is still there. I look around at my fellow graduates, and it shows that some have gotten their nails manicured and others have gotten a tan all for this day. I feel out of place. My feet hurt from the three-inch heels I’m wearing, my dress is starting to ride up, and all I want are a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and maybe my Chaco’s. I’m ready for this to end; I’m ready for August 31^st.  For some of my fellow graduates this is the end of high school; this is their way of saying good-bye before college. But this isn’t my good-bye. I know today will be the last time I see most of my home school friends. But it doesn’t hit; in this moment I just want to jump on a plane and go, not looking back.
 
After the ceremony ends I head down to the reception with my best friend since I was seven, and we chat about never again having to hide under the bridge at the park to get away from everyone. We laugh as we walk down the hill. The other graduates who don’t know us look at us weird as we talk like this. I know I should be sad that these things, knowing they are now just memories; but no, they more than that. I’m a little sadden by the thought but can’t fully process it, not now, not here.
 
The rest of the day is spent taking pictures; after the first five, I’m fed up with them, but I grin and bear it for my mom.  I sip punch and chat with a few other friends. I look around at all the seniors’ tables. Mine holds “pieces of my life (important items from my life)”, at least that’s what my mom calls them.  I have pictures from since I was little on the table, my favorite childhood stuffed cat, my clogging shoes, my Sonic hat, and other things. Five of my Uganda pictures are standing on my table each displaying a price tag just in case someone would like to buy one. (I’ve started using everything as a fundraiser.) To my surprise someone does! After a while it’s time to go. We pack up my table, and head back home. That night I have time to think about the day’s events. Everyone in my graduating class is going to college this fall. They all have a long-term plan.  That is, everyone but me.
 
I wonder what this trip will bring. I hope and pray for clarity from this trip. But I don’t know what my life will look like; I don’t know where I’ll end up. I wonder if I’ll end up back on the mission field? Or will I end up back in to the states? Whatever God has for me I know this season of my life is coming to a close. The good and the bad parts; they are all ending. Part of me is excited about the places God has out there for me, but part of me wants to hang on to this for just a little longer. But He has made it clear: it’s time for a new season. I’ve already said good-bye to the job I had for 15 months, and soon I know it will be time to say my good-byes to my children’s church class. It didn’t hit me while I sat in my cap and gown in my graduation ceremony like it did for many, but it is starting to hit now in my shorts and t-shirt. The next time I have children’s church I will try to enjoy the kids, not sweat the small things in class, and try to rejoice in the fact that no one cried, and no one peed on the floor.
 
“I still have this summer before saying good-bye, right?” I ask God.  He confirms it. “Enjoy this time,” He tells me. I still have three months to say good-bye. But for now I will enjoy this time I have before I have to say them, before my life becomes so uncertain.