Holding Less Back

Tonight marks a year since we graduated the last students from our discipleship school. It’s not like I have these anniversaries penciled into my calendar for planned remorse. Some of them spring up naturally, like a graduation scheduled for Memorial Day weekend. Other memories are triggered by the break in the natural rhythms we had created in our schedule. I still find myself planning during the week to what movie we’ll show on Friday, and then when Family night comes and there are no college students filling the living room I feel sad.

Last year at this time I was pretty broken. I’d had a couple of months warning that the school was coming to an end along with my job. We tried to finish well, but it was all pretty awkward.

I couldn’t share what I felt then. I felt I had to protect, to pretend things were better than they were. It’s a hard habit to break. Tonight a close friend told me that I can still hold things close to the vest and can come across more professional than authentic. I know that it stands in the way of real relationship.

So in a night fueled by nostalgia and the Anita Baker music playing in the living room, I reread what I journaled last year after graduation. It’s sprinkled with self pity and is viewed with rejection tinted glasses, but it’s real.

How am I doing now? I’ll check in. Like I said at the beginning I still feel the phantom pains from what’s been cut off, but things are growing in their place- not ministries, maybe just me.

I’m looking less and less over my shoulder, but I also don’t find myself staring longingly in the distance either. There is enough beauty between this sunrise and this sunset, right here, today.