It isn’t really a meeting point. More like a transition period. I’m in the no-man’s-land of time. After completing my undergraduate studies at Samford University on May 15 and saying goodbye to Birmingham, I spent 10 days at my parents’ home in Lexington before taking off on one of the biggest adventures of my life… being a summer camp director for Passport Kids! Camp. (More reflections on this later). My summer with Passport was something to look forward to after graduation and it has served as a buffer between college and the next thing. But the time has come. Camp is over, I am home, and on July 30, I will pack my things in a U-Haul and drive to Atlanta to begin the next three years of my life as a Masters of Divinity student at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology.

Beyond the unknown surrounding the practicalities of putting food on the table and learning my way around Atlanta, I am excited and energized by the unknown which awaits. I am eager to be in the classroom, and feel led by God to this new phase of learning, whatever it may bring…

Here’s a question: Do we ever arrive? As soon as I think I have reached a point of settlement, something new arises, and I start to see myself in another period of transition. Right now I’m thinking toward the move. Once I get to Atlanta, I’ll have almost 4 weeks to think toward the start of school. And once school begins, I’ll be transitioning into a new routine of class and work and hopefully eating and sleeping. And breathing.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the next thing, the point of arrival, that we see each day as a mere means to an end. I think if we wait through our current days until we “arrive,” we’ll be pretty disappointed when we never get “there”. I do know that if I’m not intentional in processing the present, the present becomes a burdensome routine of going through the motions to get to “the next thing”. Lord, help me.

I suppose this blog is, for my mom, a way to keep up with the new encounters and adventures as I go to grad school. For me, it shall be a place to share some news, and sometimes to process and reflect on the happenings of my days. For us all, let it be a reminder that each day is valuable, possibility-filled. Annie Dillard writes, “Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.”

Here’s to spending our days…