i.
He closed the book and I could look at nothing but the paper in front of me. Eyes fixated on the pen in my hand, I didn’t want to acknowledge the moment but it begged for attention. The muttered “okay,” the shuffling of the notes that were already in order. Just like the end of every class, he folded his hands and began to wrap up the lesson. But it wasn’t about prophets or theology or anything to write down in my notebook. I couldn’t color-code this moment.
It was time to acknowledge the end of an era, a moment to recognize the great work of four incredibly tough years, a minute to celebrate the accomplishments and a brief pause to impart one last piece of wisdom. He closed his book, we closed ours, “you did it.” We did.
And that was it. Blink.
ii.
Bittersweet. Whooping and hollering and shouting “We’re done!!!” with hands up in the air. And we captured it. Because 8 semesters later, 8am will find us all in very different places spread around the world. In a classroom, at a desk, in India. All for the Kingdom, all so different.
If it’s about the journey and not the destination, well… what a ride it’s been.
iii.
They say that college is the time when you figure out who you really are. And that’s true. But mainly, I think I already knew. College put my thoughts to the test, challenged my beliefs, and forced me to come to terms with the girl staring back in the mirror.
Over the course of four years, I learned why I believe what I believe. I unearthed questions and learned to sit with them. I saw the wisdom in doubting my doubts. I heard points of view that I had previously merely waved off in my head, and I listened. I saw the other side and stopped to understand.
During those four years, I was forced to confront whether or not “what had always been” would continue to be. The ‘big stuff’ like alcohol and evolution and God. And the ‘little stuff’ that is very much not little, like choosing relationships over results and listening to listen instead of to respond.
I learned about grace and I learned about letting someone else have the final word. I learned self control and practiced only eating desserts on the weekends. I discovered I had been breaking the Sabbath and I gave up homework on Sundays – not to follow a rule, but because my heart was in the wrong place.
I entered those gates hating coffee and yet the amount of money I spent on that heavenly substance is absurd. I saw snow for the first time. I discovered community is more than a buzzword.
iv.
Four years ago I didn’t know the power of story. I moved hours away from home to a place where no one knew my name, my face, or my background. I could be anyone I wanted; the canvas was blank.
The greatest story is that I chose to live my own.
v.
I’m terrific at being emotional until it makes logical sense for me to be emotional. And then, well, I’m perfectly fine. In high school I cried every year at the May church service when the seniors were recognized. I was sad to see them go, but I cried because I thought each year “…that’s going to be me. So soon. That’s going to be me.”
When it was my turn? Not a tear. And then in my eighth semester, my friends and I joked back and forth – would I be a brick wall or a basket case? Just like I expected, logic won over emotion. I found myself pressing deeply into relationships and working hard to get everything ready for post-grad life. But I was fine. A tear or two here or there, but otherwise – nada.
I picked up the cap and gown and laughed because “this can’t be right, how can we already be here?” I loaded boxes into the car and took the artwork off the walls. I wrote letters, climbed the chapel, made goodbye speeches, and hugged friends as they prepared to drive home for the summer.
The last night in the dorm I sat in the silence, barely recognizing the room around me. My best friend lay sleeping across the room as I stared up at the ceiling trying to wrap my mind around what the following day would hold. A stage, a rolled up piece of paper, a million smiling pictures.
And then, after months of being just perfectly fine, it hit.
vi.
It’s the place where I grew up. Behind the gates are buildings and classrooms that, for four years, held the people who would teach me, empower me, shape me, challenge me, and encourage me. I came in certain that love doesn’t exist apart from Jesus and I left a flat-out mess because although I didn’t see it at the time, I was becoming the Velveteen Rabbit.
Home. It was home.
On May 16th I packed the last box into my car, told my family I would meet them at my apartment, and drove toward the gates. It wasn’t the last time and I knew I could come back whenever I needed to return. But as much as I knew Samford would always be there and would always be home, I also knew that nothing would be quite the same.
vii.
I told my arms to turn the wheel to the right but the car went left. Suddenly I was looking at the statue that has seen thousands of students and high school tours and snow fights and yeah, he’s been my date for nearly every function.
I sat there with the flowers blooming and I sobbed. Because sometimes for a new story to begin, another has to end. And in so many ways it was goodbye. Not for good, but to this chapter, the one that molded me into the girl sitting in the parked car praying over and over in broken words “please go with me. please go with me. please… go with me.”
The radio was playing and in between my jumbled thoughts I heard the words. They were for me. I don’t know how He does it, but they were for me. He would go with me. So I wiped the tears and put the car in drive because heck, He’s never been anything but faithful. He would go with me.
I have won and I have lost
I got it right sometimes
But sometimes I did not
Life’s been a journey
I’ve seen joy, I’ve seen regret
Oh and You have been my God
Through all of it
And this is who You are
More constant than the stars up in the sky
All these years of our lives
I, I look back and I see You
Right now I still do
And I’m always going to
viii.
I drove outside the gates like a million times before. I left home. I went home.
ix.
He has gone with me.
x.
I haven’t been back. I realized this past Sunday as I drove home from church that I’ve unintentionally avoided Lakeshore Drive. I’m just far enough away that I have to purposely “swing by” but I’ve stayed away. Maybe to give space, maybe to make it easier to be fully in the next chapter, and maybe because I wasn’t sure what would come to the surface if I went back just yet.
It’s June 16th. These are the first words I’ve written about graduation, the first time I’ve attempted to put words to a day that is merely a day, but one that was full of endings and new beginnings. They are messy, this I know. I write to best know what I think… I’m only beginning to figure out what I think.
The process of processing has only just begun. Change does not come naturally or easily to me, but the page has turned. The new chapter has begun. It is time to live in the in between.
It isn’t easy. But oh, it is good.
How beautifully written! Last year, My daughter Miriam graduated and I watched her go through exactly what you have written. You words put emotion to that process.
That’s one of the best compliments – to have put words around what can feel hard to explain!
well done, Kaitlyn. the best is yet to be, yet it already was. blessings on you. your new friend in California. PS I loved college, but didn’t cry on graduation. weird.
P.s. well isn’t your avatar just the cutest, Sue!
visiting next door from Coffee for the Heart..what a beautiful, bittersweet story of your big transition –there’s so many of them in life, and graduating from college is significant..your brought back memories of my own, and captured the essence of the grief and acceptance! Thank you for this, and congratulations!! May you be blessed on your journey!
so glad you stopped by for a visit! nice to “meet” you here.
That’s so true- it isn’t easy, but it’s good.
I feel like that’s the theme of my life– and it very well may be yours, too. =)
totally :)
Kaitlyn…what beautiful words you share with us…I did not have the experience of attending 4 years of college – a home away from home. But, my youngest daughter did…she boarded a plane in February of her Senior year of high school to fly from Florida to Chicago to audition to attend Wheaton College for piano…and attended all 4 years; first as a piano major, then as a dual piano/voice major. Your words remind me of the experiences she had; and I know your family must be so proud of the young woman you are and all you have accomplished!
I look forward to reading more about your journey as you find your way in the world outside of college! Good luck to you; and may God continue to bless you in His work!
I’ve heard great things about Wheaton! Did she enjoy her time there?
I just adore you, sweet friend! I am so so very proud of you –of who you are and who you are becoming and I am oh so thankful that you are letting us come along with you in this journey! Love you bunches, girlie! Bunches and Bunches!
So, like, when are we gonna meet in person? :)
This is so beautiful! I graduated from college three years ago, and the transition has wrecked me and redeemed me in a million ways. And I totally agree with you about being emotional except when it makes the most sense. I cried for months any time I heard our wedding song or thought about walking down the aisle to my husband and then didn’t cry once on my wedding day. It’s funny how emotions move our hearts at the strangest of times!
Thanks for sharing all this. I wish you the best of luck!
Lauren I read your post the day or two after I wrote this and totally forgot to leave a comment.. but know that your words are having an impact!
Beautiful! Just think you will continue to figure things out as you live your life for God and that is half the fun. Someday you will reach retirement like me and you will know that the best is yet to come. The gradual unfolding is God’s way of giving you just what you need of your story at that time in your life. Blessings to you on your journey.
What a profound and beautifully written reflection. You are much further along and way more mature than I was in college ! :) Congratulations on a chapter completed and the beginning of a new one. And yes- the greatest story is the one that you choose to live. May God bless you in your next adventure.
Kaitlyn, wonderful post. This is the words which blessed me this morning > “The greatest story is that I chose to live my own.” Much wisdom in those words. May you live your great story! Blessings!
Thank you so much!
Kaitlyn, your journey through college and now into the wide, wide world of adulthood is so inspiring. I love how you can laugh with yourself and encourage all of us to be brave as we explore this crazy life too. Because really, I’m not sure we are ever sure about our lives, our callings, our gifts, or any of it until we are looking back in hindsight. So we trust and move on and you are a great example of that. Much love to you!
Ha! I have to laugh at it all. It puts the ‘sweet’ in ‘bittersweet.’
How I wish I’d been so mature and processing such wisdom at your age! The start of a new chapter is always bittersweet – and end of something known and the start of something unknown. yet, it’s also excited to embark upon the next great adventure. Living in the “in between” – that’s the hardest part. Not knowing where you’re going next, yet saying goodbye to where you’ve been. Good luck as you begin this next chapter! I think God’s got great things planned for you!
“Not knowing where you’re going next, yet saying goodbye to where you’ve been.” Exactly that. Yep.
Beautiful. Just absolutely beautiful, the story told powerfully, with pathos and humor and optimism and the small frisson of fear without which no human endeavour would be complete.
But for the record, I didn’t figure out who I was in college. I still have no idea.
Thank you!