Semester Three

When I arrived at PDX a few Thursdays ago, I had been up for 40 hours–40 hours that included 2 exams, 3 flights, and the longest line at security I had ever, ever seen.

(There were more worn-out young people trying to leave Boston at 5 a.m. than tourists at the Rockefeller Center tree the weekend before. And I’m still not sure which was more terrifying.)

I just wanted to eat New Seasons and die. I didn’t get New Seasons but I got Elephant’s Deli, ate peppermint bark and watched Elf before my head finally hit the pillow. No complaints.

I was just overjoyed to have made it back in one piece, and in probably more of a whole piece than I was when I left 3.5 months ago.

Life has a funny way of giving you more of itself as time goes on, or slowly wearing away at what little you had, depending on how you posture yourself.

I’ve experienced seasons of both in the past year, but this Fall semester, especially coming off of a great summer, was surprisingly life-giving.

Besides hours and hours of hard work (and a breakdown or two) the semester was characterized by many moments of making the ridiculous happen, and finding the purest joy in it.

Along with some wonderful humans I’m blessed to call my friends, I caught the last hot weekend at Revere “beach” for an hour or two, tried and failed to meet Jimmy Fallon at his Harvard Lampoon award ceremony in October, had a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon and did an ugly sweater amazing race around Boston in November, and saw all that there is too see for Christmas in Manhattan in less than 48 hours during study period in December. (to name a few of the rediculous ideas we decided to take seriously)

I may have injured myself and lost some sleep in several of these, but I’m here to say that we all passed our classes and have the wackiest stories to tell our grandchildren.

Hand in hand with the joy I found in my shenanigans was the realization that God is good. He always has been, I just decided to now really believe it.

There’s no way that I deserve the friendships I have. And there’s no way I deserve the life I get to live; I’m at a great school, in one of the country’s best cities, doing what I now realize I love.

God has also faithfully led me to the things I’m good at, instead of me trying to accomplish or study things that I think I should be doing. It’s amazing the peace that comes when you realize that what you’re good at, and what you like to do, is enough. I don’t have to be anything more, and I’m not going to let myself be anything less.

It’s not that I got everything I wanted, not at all. I would say it’s more of a perspective change, and one that I want to keep developing. I’m content because I decided to be. I had time to dream, and to see dreams become reality. I left tired and hopeful, and wanting nothing but to do it the same way next semester.