Today is my last full day in Pasadena. This week has been filled with packing and cleaning; the week before was all about finishing school. We said our first goodbyes (to our community group) two weeks ago and we'll say our last ones tomorrow as friends come to help us load up the moving truck. Over the last few weeks, as the end of school and our time here was fast approaching, I have been trying to reflect upon and reminisce about this past season. There's so much I want to say, so many experiences to recount, so many people I want to thank. Maybe I'll make another post to do that. For now, I want to take a moment to claim and affirm some of the things I'm taking home with me.
My time here has looked nothing like I thought, hoped, or at some times even wanted, but I wouldn't change a thing. I am leaving Pasadena/coming back to Fresno so different than who I was when left Fresno/came to Pasadena two years and seven months ago. I have struggled, learned, ached, and grown in ways that I never expected. I've allowed myself to feel sad, angry, afraid, and confused and because of that, I experienced a greater hope and deeper joy than I ever knew was possible. It's not because those all of those emotions are enjoyable to experience, but rather it is because by experiencing them, I was able to be unapologetically myself. And ultimately, although I have changed, I am still me. In fact,
I am more myself than I have ever been.
It's probably no surprise that I have found words from the ever-sage Henri Nouwen to help me articulate my perspective. These excerpts describe hope. The kind of hope that I have found, that I carry with me.
From Here and Now:
While optimism makes us live as if someday soon things will go better for us, hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present, with the deep trust that God will never leave us alone but will fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. When I trust deeply that today God is truly with me and holds me safe in a divine embrace, guiding every one of my steps I can let go of my anxious need to know how tomorrow will look, or what will happen next month or next year. I can be fully where I am and pay attention to the many signs of God's love within me and around me.From Turn My Mourning into Dancing:
Hope is willing to leave unanswered questions unanswered and unknown futures unknown. Hope makes you see God's guiding hand not only in the gentle and pleasant moments but also in the shadows of disappointment and darkness.And finally, from Bread for the Journey:
Often we want to be able to see into the future. We say, “How will next year be for me? Where will I be five or ten years from now?” There are no answers to these questions. Mostly we have just enough light to see the next step: what we have to do in the coming hour or the following day. The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark. When we are able to take the next step with the trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go. Let’s rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away.
Kate
