Here comes the spring

Here we are again, at the beginning of another semester. I'm sitting in the BCM, currently listening to people read aloud fan theories that ruin their favorite childhood cartoons. I think I only included that detail because it's a good example of what goes on here on a daily basis, and this place has become a huge part of my life. I never thought I'd be so sad to think that this is my last semester that I can live here. It amazes me how the daily routines of every semester are so completely different from the last. Class schedules, living situations, responsibilities, friendships... college has been a constant lesson for me in growing and change. Last semester started out in a much different place than the blessed and thankful place that I'm in now.

(pause post writing to move on to the next part of my day)

Now I'm sitting in a quiet chemistry lab, typing while scanning the room for some small task that I could do to justify calling these hours "work-study." As soon as I leave here, I'll head to the biology lab across campus to redo my EMB quadrant streak. After that, I'll prepare to meet for discipleship with the girl who very quickly became one of my best friends. After that, I'll probably find myself sitting back at the BCM doing homework, discussing whatever subject I'm working on with the guy who very very quickly became my best friend, listening to the culinary kids cut up (pun) in the kitchen. These are some of the staples of this life that I've found myself in.

But it's not really fair to say that I've "found myself" here. There's been a lot of work, and a lot of intentionality, that has brought me into these routines and relationships. I feel like last semester was a lot of emotional preparation for the many good things and unfortunate things that have happened since. But now, I'm in a place where the things that brought me to brokenness and caused me grief don't even seem to matter anymore. They were for a reason, but they're just not as tragic as they felt then. I suppose most of that is just me growing up and realizing that every bad thing that happens isn't the end of the world. But a part of it really is that they've been eclipsed-or transformed- into the new thing that God was doing.

He's been doing many new things. It's been a beautiful journey.

And that's what spring is: the birth of new things at the end of a long winter. Life waiting to break through the cold, stiff blanket left by death.

Yes, I know it's still January, and our little bayou school is just beginning to feel the chill in the wind, but it's the season for new things. Like waking after a long rest.

Here's to the spring, and whatever unforseen things it holds.

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