It's now 2:00 in the morning and I've been working on "work stuff" since 1:00 this afternoon, grading freshman paper after freshman paper while taking food breaks every few hours and medicating myself with caffeine. Oh, and working via e-mail for the past handful of hours with my TA at Biola on the academic conference we are running next Friday. Getting down to the wire!
I'm making good progress on all this work and feel fully accomplished today, but . . . I'm just realizing how crazy life is right now. I've known it all along, of course, but it's coming to a head this week, given number of times I've found myself jumping with surprise today -- remembering things I have committed to finishing or attending or am in charge of making happen this week -- that I might forget if I'm not careful.
So, I decided to make a note of the things that need to be done each day this week on a small Post-it note on the table next to me. Which turned into 2 Post-it notes just to make sure I would remember everything that will get me through the weekend. Which turned into 5 Post-it notes that catalogs the responsibilities I have each day from now until the day I move to FL with Kirk. (Oh, glory be the light at the end of the tunnel!)
But then I realized something. I realized I had just put my whole life for the next two-and-a-half weeks -- mind you, what's left of my California life in total -- on 5 small Post-it notes on a very small piece of kitchen table.
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. MY WHOLE CALIFORNIA LIFE FITS ON 5 SMALL YELLOW POST-IT NOTES. HOW CAN THAT BE??
I'm going to miss seeing Hannah's quirky smile and beautiful blue eyes. I'm going to miss hugging -- squeezing, rather -- Katy's small frame and seeing how her dark lashes form a protective umbrella over her blue eyes when she's deep in concentration. I'm going to miss hanging for a full day of Felicity or Gilmore Girls reruns at my mom's house and knowing I can stop over absolutely whenever, her house is always open, and I don't even need a reason for showing up. I'm going to miss laughing at my sister when she gets silly and wants to remind me of how funny we were as kids. I'm going to miss the beach. I'm going to miss Rock Harbor, the coolest, edgiest, most God-glorifying church I've ever witnessed or been privileged to serve in and be a part of. I'm going to miss my Life Group girls, who have been like my life's blood next to Kirk this past year and the arms of the very body of Christ. I'm going to miss my little white house that's decorated in a way so perfectly reflective of me. I'm going to miss witnessing and speaking into the lives of my students as they grow up and into adults. And I'm going to miss the fantastic, strangely beautiful, altogether unique ones who have unreservedly changed my life this year.
Change -- even good change -- is accompanied by pain. I think this is always the case.
I'm thankful I have found a man who understands this pain, wants to walk with me through it while holding my hand, give me my space if I ever need it, and, more importantly, loves me even more each day for feeling all that I feel -- the joy and the pain -- that somehow, for him, demonstrates the deep feeling heart I carry within me, which is an invaluable treasure, he says -- a treasure of the kingdom! -- and would want all of it always, even when it feels like it's breaking into a thousand little pieces.
Just like it does right now.