The Best Days
Is it possible to miss something you haven't lost yet? To feel nostalgic for a place you still dwell in?
I don't know what it is but for the past few days I've been feeling the ticking of the clock pounding strongly in my ears. With every toc of the seconds' hand, my stomach clenches a bit. The thought of ever leaving this place...it's almost too much to bear.
And yet it doesn't quite make sense. First of all, I still have 22 months left here, and, if I wanted I could always apply for an extension. But as much as I love this air, these people, these days, this place- I don't see myself staying past my allotted 30 months. There's a life out there that needs living, and I think 30 months was the perfect respite- the perfect time away from it all- time to consecrate to service, to God, to learning about and falling more in love with this Faith. Hopefully, all of those things will continue after I leave, and yet I know that the intensity and the ease with which they happen here is not really replicable anywhere else.
I also find myself dreading the thought of certain people leaving. I start to get quiet and sad just thinking about it, but they're still here. I still haven't had a close friend leave. And no one is scheduled to until the summer. And then it begins...the slow, painful exodus of loved ones.
I know He provides. I've never had to say goodbye to one friend without having another remarkable one appear in my life, but goodbye is still hard. Still dreaded. Still painful.
Especially in this place. We can come from so many different parts of the globe and will probably scatter to so many other parts, that you wonder when we'll really see each other again. And it will never be like this.
Here, we learned together. We prayed together. We traced sacred footprints with our own feeble soles.
We were blessed. We are blessed.
and it's a winding road
and it's a long way home
so don't wait
for someone to tell you
it's too late
cuz these are the best days
there's always something tomorrow
so i say let's make the best of tonight
here comes the rest of our lives
(Graham Colton)
I don't know what it is but for the past few days I've been feeling the ticking of the clock pounding strongly in my ears. With every toc of the seconds' hand, my stomach clenches a bit. The thought of ever leaving this place...it's almost too much to bear.
And yet it doesn't quite make sense. First of all, I still have 22 months left here, and, if I wanted I could always apply for an extension. But as much as I love this air, these people, these days, this place- I don't see myself staying past my allotted 30 months. There's a life out there that needs living, and I think 30 months was the perfect respite- the perfect time away from it all- time to consecrate to service, to God, to learning about and falling more in love with this Faith. Hopefully, all of those things will continue after I leave, and yet I know that the intensity and the ease with which they happen here is not really replicable anywhere else.
I also find myself dreading the thought of certain people leaving. I start to get quiet and sad just thinking about it, but they're still here. I still haven't had a close friend leave. And no one is scheduled to until the summer. And then it begins...the slow, painful exodus of loved ones.
I know He provides. I've never had to say goodbye to one friend without having another remarkable one appear in my life, but goodbye is still hard. Still dreaded. Still painful.
Especially in this place. We can come from so many different parts of the globe and will probably scatter to so many other parts, that you wonder when we'll really see each other again. And it will never be like this.
Here, we learned together. We prayed together. We traced sacred footprints with our own feeble soles.
We were blessed. We are blessed.
and it's a winding road
and it's a long way home
so don't wait
for someone to tell you
it's too late
cuz these are the best days
there's always something tomorrow
so i say let's make the best of tonight
here comes the rest of our lives
(Graham Colton)
Comments