Saturday, May 22, 2004

au revoir Taylor.

August of 2000 was a weird month. I remember riding with my parents in the minivan down I-69 to Taylor, sitting in the middle of the first of two bench seats. I looked on ahead and the road went forever. My fear crept over my head and later found a comfortable spot down on my lap, where I began to second guess my choice to come to Taylor. What in the world am I doing? Why am I leaving everything that means something to me to come to this cornfield town in the middle of nowhere? I love the city...or at least then, I thought I really did. It was cool to love the city when you're a post-senior just out of high school, but later on, you ask yourself why and you begin to wonder if the things you really think of as cool are even cool at all. So anyway, I'm riding along in the van and second guessing the whole college findigalog (no Shorb, it's not a word---don't worry, you still have a bigger vocabulary than me. It just sounded like the word to fit). My first trip up to the Penthouse (the fourth floor of my dorm where I was to live for the next 4 years) was surreal like it is everyone, except for me, I was greeted by a roommate with a blonde mohawk who acted like we had been friends since kindergarten. David Hoeflinger. I thought I wouldn't make it a week. Later, in December, I realized he was my best friend at Taylor and when I found out he wouldn't return second semester due to financial reasons, I got mad at God and crossed my arms and stood in the corner for a few days. I was ticked. He was one of the only people I really connected with...considering we lived on a floor that seemed to be conceiving and giving birth to all-star athletes in the study lounges. I didn't fit in with most people b/c I didn't really want to play intermurals and so therefore, I sat in my room for hours at a time waiting to see if anyone would stop by and say hello. A few people did, but not many. I'm grateful for people like Trent who seemed to have no bick about loving you or not, even if you didn't play sports and support the floor, he was one of those people you look up to b/c he respects you, despite the age difference. Not many people seem to be good at this so when you find one person who is, it's great. Anyway, freshman year and the point (kind of) to the whole story. When I was living in freshman year, I hated it a lot of it. People were not as spiritual as I thought they should be and so many people seemed to be letting me down. I was expecting friends I would stand by and for in weddings and for the most part, I wasn't seeing any people like this. I wanted freshman year to end with a passion although I think I masked it like it went fine.

Now, looking back, I loved this time. I loved it b/c I was uncomfortable and was left with myself to deal with when all I wanted was a few friends. I loved having the free time to give potential friends and just enjoying one another's presence. I loved this year, despite the memories that come with it. When I look at the individual ones, I wonder why I liked it so much...but when I lump them all into one category (like freshman year) I loved it. This brings me to now, and the feeling I'm feeling now. Like I felt the last night at 5:00 a.m. in L.A. last spring, I know I'm going to miss Taylor and the people that make it up. I know even though I'm annoyed at a few people right now and frustrated with how my last week here has gone, I'll still probably look back 20 years from now and love thinking about every minute of it. I've been praying lately (or trying to whenever I remember to) that God would bring me a few people in L.A. to surround me and love me and really encourage me in these next 2 years. Part of me is terrified, like I was in August of 2000, at where Fuller will lead me. But so much of me is elated and bits and pieces of me feel like I have enough trust inside of me to go nuts out in L.A. I anticipate God changing me. It's funny, but it hasn't really been an option in my head. I'm just assuming that he'll be faithful even though I rarely am and that he'll be merciful even when I don't want to look up and be honest. It's terrifying, but I love it for some reason.

Well, in 6 hours I will graduate and walk away with a piece of paper worth $100,000 that says I know something. Thank you everyone for contributing to were expensive but worth every penny of it. I mean that even though it sounds sarcastic. Night.

No comments: