...and my heart took a picture.

I'm starting to get that "death sentence" feeling. I believe there's a divine grace in not knowing when this life will end and we will step into eternity. Some people know they have a fatal disease and perhaps can narrow their life span down to a few weeks or months. Excluding those with a mandated execution date, the rest of us do not know the day or hour when we will die.

Hopefully, the death angel doesn't have me on his short list; but, my "death sentence" feeling isn't about actually dying, but about knowing the day and hour when this leg of my life's journey will end, and that day is racing toward me with some kind of reckless abandon.

It's kind of ironic how I have prayed for graduation day, and I have whispered a thousand times how much "I want to be done!" And, of course, those prayers remain the same; but, even with those desires to finish--and finish soon!--I also know that there are pieces of this life that I am going to miss.

Greenview Drive is a nightmare of construction right now as it is expanding to four lanes. I remember my first trip down Greenview Drive on that summer day that Wes and I came to Lynchburg to look at apartments. We exited off the highway and stopped at the light at the top of the hill. On the horizon lay a panoramic view of the Blue Ridge Mountains that was absolutely breath-taking. I told Wes at that moment, "I don't know where I'm going to live, but it must include this view!" For three years I have taken that same route home almost every day, and it has never disappointed me. I was lost in thought about it yesterday as I crested that hill for the thousandth time, and my heart took a picture.

I went to Campus Church last night (and it was wonderful, as usual). But I found myself watching the musicians, the students, and my friends. I was just drinking it all in and thanking God for such a rich worship experience that has been made available to me on a weekly basis for three years. The kids were cheering for their friends getting baptized. They rang out the words of each song like a massive 5000 voice choir. Dr. E made us laugh and think and repent in the same breath. I panned the room a few times, realizing that this would soon be a memory, and my heart took a picture.

I gave a presentation on Tuesday regarding the topic of my final paper in Federal Jurisdiction class. Fed Jur is a small seminar class with many of my closest friends and one of my favorite profs. I really wasn't nervous about my presentation; but I found myself getting distracted by my friends and all the thoughts that were racing through my mind (none of which had anything to do with my paper!). As I panned the room and looked each one of them in the eye, I realized that this is our last month of class and one of the few times that we'll all be together. It seems that we have a lifetime of memories together and ironic that our history together spans less than three years. I was babbling about my topic and drawing on the white board, but my thoughts were about these wonderful people who have been part of this season, and my heart took a picture.

I suppose it is a "death sentence" of sorts, but I am thankful for the grace of knowing when this will end. I have lived three of the most glorious years of my adult life here. They have been trying. They have often seemed impossible. I have been happy, sad, wise, foolish, helpful, belligerant, angry, victorious, and defeated. I have grown personally, intellectually, and spiritually. So, bring on the death sentence! Without the death (or end) of this journey, I won't be able to experience the next. For three years I have laughed, cried, and loved with some of the greatest people in the world, and I know that this ending will be bathed in tears of joy and sadness. We were tossed into a room as strangers, and we have emerged as family. So this is the long goodbye, slowly letting go, but taking each moment with me in my heart.