I think I’ll be okay

When Karen Bergquist mentoned how hard 2008 had been for her and Linford last night at the Troubadour, it not only humanized them more, but reassured me that I wasn’t alone. I recall the end of 2007 and the thoughts that while it had been a full year ending with tension, it was, in fact a good. I had high hopes for the year to come, and have been repeatedly disappointed. Certainly I cannot deny the myriad of good that has filled the year: the laughter, the friendships, the challenges, the academic successes, the professional security I’m truly beginning to sense. 

But this year has not been easy. It started hard and has only maintained in such a manner that I am not ready to welcome 2009.  I have been afraid finals were leapfrog me forward towards further pain, hurt, sadness, remorse, loss for the next calendar change. I fear there would be only more fears of academia and what it means. More days of wondering where love was for me, while my friends one by one paired off. Questioning when the stress of leading peers would force an imminent personal collapse.

I woke up from a 2 hour nap last Friday morning assuming that I would be ripped to shreds. Embarrassed. Disappointed. Overstressed. It would be another day of lamenting what could be, not what is. And the reality? I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was humbled and blessed repeatedly. E-mails, conversations, meetings. Each of them affirmed me and my gifts – even when I was giddy goofy tired, unable to complete sentences by mid-day, I knew, deep down that good was coming into my life again.

I had a sense of a dynamic shift my world and community in the last 4-7 months, and all ounces of intuition in my fingers, heart and mind have not been disappointed. Wrestling with the next, even when the next is no where in true sight, I can see God at work and am truly humbled and awed.  

Regardless of good days or bad days ahead, I’m hoping that I can even more intentionally cling to the hope that these latter days, however much of a toll they’ve taken, are reminders that life ebbs and flows. I have to hope for this.

Latter Days – Over the Rhine


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