"A year from now, we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away. And they're going to better places, but our friends will be gone away." --Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart
With 17 weeks until graduation and saying goodbye to friends that have walked alongside me for the past 3 1/2 years, and a year until I finish my time at Wheaton and jump into the next adventure God has planned for me, this song is feeling pretty relatable right now. I'm currently on the plane heading back to Wheaton for my last semester of classes. Though I'm beyond excited to return to Wheaton and finish up senior year, leaving home felt more bitter than sweet this time. Leaving home this time met admitting that spring semester of senior year is starting, and that this is the last semester I have with many people very dear to me. It means admitting that some friends are finishing their Wheaton career by studying abroad this semester and it's possible I may never see them again (although unlikely). It means admitting that I won't be home or see my friends again until December.
I hate change and I hate the unknown. This is the first time in my life that I have literally no idea what I'll be doing next. And I hate it. Student teaching in an extra semester means that I finish up in the middle of a school year, making it pretty difficult to find a teaching job right away. Therefore, I have no idea what I'll be doing. If somehow a teaching job comes up somewhere, I'll go there. Otherwise it will be back to Washington for at least the semester. I could end up abroad, like my brother, I could end up staying in Wheaton, I could end up in Washington, I could end up somewhere that I never thought I'd live. And though it's exciting to think about life after college and finally getting to teach after dreaming about it for as long as I can remember, it's also terrifying. I like college. I like Wheaton. I like living in an apartment with my friends. I like being no more than a 10 minute walk from my friends. I don't like the idea of not being with them anymore. I don't like the idea of my friends who have been my support the past 3 1/2 years being spread across the world. I especially don't like not knowing whether I'll have a job this time next year.
Yesterday, I fell off my horse after she refused a jump at the last moment and bolted off to the side. You would never know she's almost 22 based on the way she acts... she's a little bit crazy. Once my friend that was with me caught Marlee and calmed her down, she asked if I wanted to get back on. I didn't hesitate-my answer was a clear yes. Not only because I didn't want my last ride for 11 months to end with a fall, but also because I've always been told to get right back on after falling off-that I can't let fear keep me from doing what I love.
As I nursed my sore back and leg last night, I started thinking about what I could learn from falling off Marlee other than that it probably was stupid to be jumping a horse that hadn't been ridden regularly in months, especially since I hadn't ridden or jumped in months either. But I can also apply it to what I've been talking about here. Maybe a better word than hate for my feelings towards the unknown is fear. When I think about the next year, I recognize so much fear in myself. I'm afraid it's going to be harder than I expect to be away from home for a year. I'm afraid that I'll be over my head in my job at HoneyRock this summer. I'm afraid I'll do poorly at student teaching. I'm afraid won't stay in touch with my Wheaton friends. But I can't let fear keep me from doing what I or my friends love and are called to do. Rivers and roads (and maybe oceans) will separate me from those I love, but I can say in confidence we will be in better places, living out God's calling for each of us.
