Wednesday, November 16, 2011

all in.

This fall, there's no time of the week I love more than Wednesday mornings. An obvious perk? Late class and no clinical work means that I can sleep in past 7:00. An unplanned perk? Coffee dates. It's become somewhat routine this semester to gather with friends - new friends and old friends and very dear friends - to talk about life and get to know one another with a hot beverage in hand. There's some part of my soul that believes a decent number of the world's problems could be solved if people made time for coffee dates. Coffee dates are life-giving, allowing me time and space to better understand the person across the table. Time and time again, Wednesday morning coffee dates (or rather, any coffee dates) bring real and honest conversation, leaving me with lingering questions and thoughts to explore.

This morning was no exception. I was fortunate enough to share coffee and conversation with my dear friend Sam. We parted ways and I went about my day, continually coming back to ideas that came up in conversation this morning. I came to realize, over coffee and conversation and homemade bagels, that I am in a season of anticipating, wondering what life will look like in the next year. What's the next part of my story. Where I will live. Where I will work. Who I will live with. Where I will seek out community. How I will grow. Who I will become. Certainly, these are the normal questions that come with graduating college.

To a certain extent, it's good to wonder what's next, to ask and question and think about life in the next season, especially when you're on the brink of transition. It's normal, and necessary even, for me to be thinking about life in the next year; planning for the logistics of getting a job and a place to live. It's easy for me, though, to lose the ground beneath me. I can easily get caught daydreaming and wondering about my future apartment and how cute I'll look in my teacher clothes. And somedays I get serious, asking questions like, how do I make a resume? Apply for jobs? Look for an apartment? Things I definitely need to get serious about, but my mind swirls in circles of the unknown, getting me nowhere.


I don't want to get so lost in the anticipation that I miss the place where I am right now. Briefly, Sam and I talked about the idea of being all in; about fully immersing yourself in the life that's right in front of you, present to every emotion and feeling and experience that's happening as it's happening. There will come a time when this season will no longer be this season, it will change and transition and I will start living a new part of my story. This season will pass, and when it does, I don't want to look back and realized I missed something. I want to be all in.

My Dad always says, "This too shall pass." More often than not, we use that in my family to talk about hard and difficult situations. Oh, you're stressed? This too shall pass. There's an argument? This too shall pass. There's hardship? This too shall pass. What we don't realize, though, is that everything will pass. The bad and hard things pass, yes, but the very good and very precious things about each season will pass as well.

Being a Young Life leader? This too shall pass. Bethesda? This too shall pass. After dinner dance parties with my roommates? This too shall pass. Late night drives on Lake Shore Drive? This too shall pass. Being a student? This too shall pass.

Everything will pass in its time. I realized today that life and change and transition is normal, a vital part of life even. We're all in for a little while, and then life and transition and change happen, we pull away, and start living a new chapter. So often, I get stuck, thinking, this is it. This is my story. Loyola. Bethesda. Young Life. Single. But this is not my whole story. My time at Loyola and my time living at Bethesda and my time as a Young Life leader and my time as a single lady, those are parts of my story, but they are not my whole story. There are entire chapters yet to be written, and while I am anticipating what's to come in the next year, I also want to be all in. Right here. Right now. Present. I want to be all in as a roommate. All in as a Young Life leader. All in as a friend. All in as a future teacher. I want to be in, present, fully aware of the people and places and feelings happening right now. In time, transition and change will be inevitable. I'll say goodbye and jump, head first and all in to a new part of my story. I want to know when that happens that I didn't put too much energy and into thinking about what's next, missing out on being all in right now. This too shall pass, and when it does, I won't be able to get it back. So, here's to being all in. Anyone want to join me?

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