The school year is hurtling towards it’s crescendo. The final hours of lecture and study and late-night flings are here. Graduation day approaches for a handful of my heart strings, too, those few who have changed me inside-out without knowing it. I thoroughly underestimated this work and the ties that can’t be untied and the memories that can’t be replaced. I didn’t realize it would be so redemptive, or so joyous.
To the students who have captured my imagination as well as my heart.
To those anchors, those tethers to belonging and home.
To the open doors and open arms, the physical proximity as well as emotional and mental bonds.
You inspire me daily. I anticipate your visits, seek you out, cheer you on. You probably don’t know how much I want to be where you are. It’s instinctive; a gut-level pull to be present with you.
The evenings are never long enough. The conversations never too deep. The hugs never too frequent.
I didn’t realize I could love you people so much. I want to pour out everything for you, willingly, joyfully, fully. In some small way, that’s what it is to be like Christ. Because when you lean in, I see it there, clear as day. That humanness. That created-and-called-good reflection of a holy God.
Thank you for your messiness. Your dedication. Your scars and triumphs.
Extraordinary magic, indeed.