“‘Stay’ is a charming word in a friend’s vocabulary” (Louisa May Alcott), says the cardboard attached to my door. And all around me… No one is staying.
This summer, I get to live here, on campus, as part of the PR group, and I think that part of the reason why I’m so excited to move to on-campus summer housing is that I get to stay.
Today I left a conversation I was having with another (oh, so dear, so important to me) person, and for hours afterward (I would say it still isn’t resolved) I felt unsettled. Why? He said that he didn’t have anything else to say, and I didn’t have to have anything to say, and… I walked to the restroom, he to his bed, and… It was over. And that’s just weird to me. I am always the last to leave. And, incidentally, he’s usually the first… And now the roles have switched.
I don’t want to be that person! Not only does it make me feel all kinds of uncomfortable and weird, but also — does my leaving affect the others like their leaving affects me? And, if so, I never want to do that to them!
Why is it so important to me that people stay? Why can’t I just let people (and things) go and just know that either they’ll return or they won’t and that whatever way it is, it’s right?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a packrat… The queen of free things, collecting & gathering whatever meant anything to me. And I’m also really sentimental… And real nostalgic… And always prepared for anything… So I always gather enough to provide for whatever could come.
But about being prepared for everything… I guess that’s everything but this.
Everyone on my floor is moving out. I cannot bear it! All these boxes outside doors & these pictures off walls — beds moved back to where they were for move-in & Orientation (do you remember that? wasn’t it gross?) — all this blankness and proactivity, people that have been packing up and preparing for this for weeks.
And I… I just want to stay.
Please, please, please, just let me stay. And everyone else stay too.
Lord, I am Thine. This whole leaving thing… Causes me to barely breathe. But You sustain me. I have felt at home here since before the beginning, I have loved every minute of this place, I have felt unsettled in imitations — but YOU are Home. YOU are Home, Lord.
You are all the Home I will ever need or see or feel or taste or know. You are all the Home I can and/or cannot see.
And I trust in You.
To be Home.
Lord… I love You. And all of the unsettledness and all the things that ‘leaving’ reminds me of and all the hurt I feel… I give it to You. Thank You for every reason why I have been hurt and for all Your faithfulness in it.
Lord… I am Thine, mmhmmm. I am YOURS. Yes. I trust You.
And commit to You all the reasons I’ve been wounded…
And ask You to redeem all the echoes of that.
I love You — LMLYM ❤