miss.

The weather this week in Nashville has been unseasonably cooler– actually spring-like, which is odd for TN in May. It’s been rainy, windy, and in the 60s all week, which usually I’d enjoy.

This week, however, I’ve kind of hated it. It reflects how I’m feeling about this season: change and discomfort and sadness, whipping me straight across the face and leaving me cold.

Plus, it’s made it impossible for me to do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do all week: spend time outside on campus, soaking in these last few days.

How can I miss a place I haven’t even left yet?

I  cannot imagine my life without this place being the focal point. It’s my safe place, my refuge and where I am the most myself. It’s home in every sense of the word. I can’t picture this place and this community not being a focal point of my days, a center of my life.

Yet in less than 48 hours, it won’t be anymore. And I don’t know how to handle it.

I don’t want to miss Lipscomb. I want to be here. To stay here.

I’m ready for the future (especially now that I have a plan/next step in motion for the fall). I’m not scared of what’s to come anymore.

I’m not as worried about going home– especially knowing I have an end date and a time to move out in July for my internship.

But none of those things make saying leaving any easier.

I was talking to my dad today and started crying out of nowhere (which I tend to try not to do with my dad since he’s a gruff no-crying kind of guy) while talking about graduation plans. It came out of left field– I’ve been (mostly) fine this week, relieved to be finished. Until now. Grad practice tomorrow, my last full day on campus, leaving Elam for the last time– it all became a little too much for me to handle. Suddenly, I’m not as ready to leave as I thought I was.

I’ve been crying ever since, basically– trying to come to terms with this mix of emotions. This tension between missing this chapter and springing into the next one.

I’m so ready to be done. Hell, I’ve been ready since February. I’m ready for a break from school and stress- especially since this semester sucked the life out of me.

I have plans for the future figured out, a next chapter unfolding– and right now? It’s kinda looking awesome and perfect for me (more on that in the future).

But that does not change how hard this transition is. How sad I am about leaving this place behind.

Lipscomb holds a huge part of my life– my heart, my identity is found in this dorm and this community and these classrooms. I am not ready to miss it.

The thought of having to miss this place is breaking my heart.

 

graduationpic
I’m ready to wear this on Saturday… not ready to leave after.

 

{this was technically a five minute friday post, but being honest: i did not write this in five minutes. more like an hour in-between crying fits. Yay emotional breakdowns!}

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7 thoughts on “miss.

  1. Aww! I’m so sorry you’re feeling blue and nostalgic (the good news is, if you get your crying done today, maybe you’ll be able to enjoy graduation on Saturday more! That’s what I did when my girls finished high school–I bawled in private a few days before and enjoyed the weekend with dry eyes 😉 ). Congratulations on your accomplishment and know that God has big plans for you! Jeremiah 29:11

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  2. Love and hugs, Jordan. You’re going to do GREAT!

    You’re not alone in your feelings. Al Sever, in his memoir of flying as a helicopter door gunner, “Xin Loi, Viet Nam”, described similar feelings…and he thought he was nuts. How could anyone want to stay and get shot at rather than go home to the US, having done his duty?

    And yet, the sorrow eventually pulled him back for another tour, which he then extended. He found life amidst death, and meaning disguised as chaos.

    And I have felt the same way.

    #2 at FMF this week

    http://blessed-are-the-pure-of-heart.blogspot.com/2016/05/your-dying-spouse-151-missing-ewe-fmf.html

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  3. Hi, Jordan, I remember those feelings well. It feels like such a strange transition and then, where is this place that was home and school and everything? Maybe you can carry it with you, but how far will it go? I hope writing it out helped you process it all the more. The sharing makes it easier somehow. p.s. love your Donald Miller quote. Have you been to Storyline? I was there the past 2 years. (hugs) -Christina in spot #6

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  4. angelalegacysevenstudios

    “change and discomfort and sadness, whipping me straight across the face and leaving me cold.” This line – so poetic, and so achingly familiar. It’s amazing how God pulls us out of the comfortable, lets us experience the pain of loss, so that we can know the parallel joy of “finding.” I am excited with you for what is to come, and in quiet sadness for what you leave behind. Thank you so much for sharing. -a FMF sister.

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  5. You are normal. Perfectly, wonderfully normal. I sobbed my guts out on my wedding day. Change is so hard, even when you know it’s going to be good. Let yourself mourn the loss and be excited for the future all at once. May many blessings come your way!

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  6. Tara

    Jordan, it’s totally ok to miss a place you haven’t left yet. There are those places that shaped me and were like home to me. To this day, you can see and hear the imprints they left on my hear. Blessings for this journey. Jeremiah 29:11

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  7. Pingback: the [year] where it happens {cheers to 24}. – Writeable moments

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