Goodbye

We had our last IV this Thursday, which meant it was time to say bye to people who are leaving. A favorite time of the year for all of us. This year, there are 4 graduating seniors, in addition to 6 others who are transferring schools (four of them to University Park...darn you Penn State Behrend for shipping half the majors away). Ten people. Ten people who aren't going to be coming back. Ten people who had become a part of my life for the past 2 years, and who were just going to up and leave, go on with their lives, and leave me here...without them.

At the end of the night, we got in a circle, laid our hands on the shoulders of those who are leaving, and then Brad Sick looked right at me and says "Would you open us in prayer, Molly?"

Maybe it was because it was Brad who said it. I mean, he is one of the people in that group that I had gotten the closest to these past two years. It's funny how what could have hurt a lot of friendships made ours stronger, and just thinking about him not being there next year in classes, in Almy, and at worship, utterly broke my heart.

Maybe it was because I had just realized that I was opening prayer to send off a group full of ten people that I truly loved, and I felt like I was losing half of my family.

Maybe it was just seeing the genuine love for Christ in every person standing in that tight circle of 30 students, people that God had just kind of placed in my lap when I came to college, and I was overwhelmed with His love at that moment.

Maybe my heart was breaking for the few who were leaving who didn't quite figure out this God thing yet, and the thought that they might not pursue Him further once they left hurt me.

No matter what the reason was, I pretty much was gone right then. I nodded, prayed a few sentences, but then had to stop. Other people took over for me and we prayed for a good 20 minutes for these people... and I bawled the whole way through it. And, it was good.

God definitely heals when you are the most exposed, I think. I tend to smile a lot and cover up a lot of feelings I have on the inside for the sake of appearing strong to others. But in that moment, I couldn't keep on my happy face. Instead, God was saying, "Hey, you're sad about this, let this body of believers comfort you, and I will be here."

I need to let myself be more open more often.

Mr. Golden Sun

Today there was sunshine. And if you've ever lived in or been to Erie between the months of October and May, you know how exciting this is. I walked to class, listened to birds chirp, and enjoyed the fact that...yes, the sun does in fact, exist. Granted, it was still 40 degrees outside, but the sun is what makes life so much better.

It’s amazing how much my mood lifts when the sun is out. I notice it in other people, too. My classmates are much chattier during class, I get smiles from total strangers while I walk past them, and my suitemate gets very optimistic that she might be able to go biking soon. Little things like that make me smile during these first days of spring.

Why is it that we get so downtrodden when we experience a lack of sun? It’s not like it goes anywhere…it just hides behind the clouds for a few months at a time. But it’s hard for us to see through the clouds, and it’s so easy to feel like the sun will never come out again, and to let that affect out lives. I know I do. Seeing that sun shine through my window this morning made me actually WANT to get out of bed in the morning and attack the day.

So, I tend to think in metaphors, so here’s one for you. What about the Son? I mean, the sun makes our days brighter (literally), shouldn’t He also? He is always there, even when we can’t see Him hiding behind the clouds. Of course, Jesus doesn’t hide behind real clouds (well, maybe, but I’m not here to talk about the geographical location of heaven), but he hides behind the figurative clouds that cloud our lives. Clouds can be hard tests, broken relationships, fading friendships, stress with work, or real-life clouds that rain on us while we’re walking to class. We can sometimes only see those things, and it’s hard to see through them to the real Son, the real reason for the brightness in our day… and we forget. Our days become mediocre, dull, and saddened without Him, just like they do without the real sun shining down upon us. We forget He’s there, and it’s easy to believe that He never was, and never will be again.

Except, it’s not like it’s His fault that we forget He’s there. He is ALWAYS there, no matter what. We just need to stop focusing on those dumb clouds, and actually acknowledge His awesome existence in our lives (daily prayer/bible time, much?). I can go sledding in the dark, and I can dance in the rain. Why then, do I have such trouble focusing on my amazing Father when I just got that test back and the grade is a 75? Instead of saying things in anger to that friend who hurt me, why can’t I ask for His guidance on what to say? All I have to do is know He’s there, behind all the metaphorical clouds that mess up my life.

This is easier said than done to be sure, but something to ponder. I’ve gotten better, but I’m not perfect, nor will I ever be. But I strive to be able to look those clouds in the face and say “Ha! Even though you’re blocking my view of the sun, I can still live my life abundantly, because I won't forget that the Son is always there!”

Take that, Satan. :-)