I'm fighting against time. Actually in more ways than one, after all it is 2:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. Why? Because I have 9 days left of my life in Kansas City. I'm fighting to fit in the present, and reconcile my history here. I read a quote this evening that said, "The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal." And that is the deal indeed. Without the joy and happiness attached to a person or a season of life, the level of sorrow is significantly lower. Have you ever left a place or a relationship with a sigh of relief? I have, and it wasn't because it was awesome that's for sure. But that sinking feeling in your chest as you see time closing in on you, that's because of joy, because of the people, the history, the journey.
Now I'm not saying each and every season is solely bliss. Heaven knows my 3 years in Kansas City have been far from that alone. In my first 6 months I lost my step-dad, 18 months later my precious Daddy, and in-between I watched my sister from a computer screen as she laid in a hospital for months at a time fighting to keep her babies alive within her womb. Those my friends, were not joyful times. But I tell you what, from that pain I've been given eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart that has been expanded in my chest. I see starry nights differently, hear other people's stories with more empathy, and love with more gratitude than ever before. I did all that in Kansas City, away from my family, but leaning on a new one...
I've lived with my best friends. I've eaten more cookies than should be permitted in one's lifetime. I've had more living room sing-alongs, dance parties, and heart-to-hearts than I ever could have dreamed. I've talked-it-out, shook-it-off, and let-it-go. I've hugged longer, laughed until I cried from the other side of the wall, and sighed deep content sighs over my kitchen sink. I've cooked over a stove with at least 4 other girls at the same time, worked out and then went on a milkshake run, and power cleaned faster than I thought possible. I've learned their mannerisms, laughed at their quirks, and appreciated them more because of those very same things. I found Jesus in hidden spaces, worked my dream job, and dared to push that dream a little further.
I've been loved. In-spite of myself, everyday. I've been celebrated, encouraged, and strengthened. I've been held up, understood, and challenged. These people have rallied around me, fought for my destiny, and cried over my losses.
I could go on and on. I'm looking at my story and the one's who have helped the writing process. I want to make sense of it all, knowing deep down this season of life will continue to unfold in the chapters before me. Yet I'm still trying to take away all that I can right now. I'm taking in expressions from precious faces, listening to laughs and tucking them away, driving down streets and memorizing trees. I'm realizing that my present is made up of history. A big extravagant history. I've been written up to this point by many moments from my yesterday's. It's as though I've been chiseled away at by victories and embarrassments, by disagreements and compromises. I've been molded by dirty dishes, packed out schedules, and learning to say no. I'm shaped by other people's twinkling eyes, guitar melodies, and forgiveness. All of these things are making me, me. And right now...right now. Right now. I'm living in my yesterday's.
