Last.

Every time I blink, I'm facing another "last."
My last Monday Morning Meeting with Food Service. My last opening shift at work. Last week of classes, last couple late night city walks, last Tuesday night at ICI, last moments as a college student. May 12, graduation day, looms on the horizon, overshadowing all I think or do. It ought to be something I look forward to, but instead all I can think is last.

So I need a first. This is my first blog.

As an MK, I have said goodbye to many people and places. I feel like each goodbye I've had to say over the years has sucked a little bit of life out of me, and I don't know how much more I have to give. I don't like being uprooted.

Growing up, we would take broken pieces of ivy or spider plant and put them in a glass jar filled with water. This does not just prolong wilting - they grow roots. I was always fascinated  by being able to see the roots, normally hidden in dirt and flower pot, and amazed that it could survive and grow even though it had been broken.

Like ivy, or a spider plant, I've learned to put down roots in different places as I grow. But they seem all torn up. So maybe I have been broken off, maybe I am dangling above the safety of dark, moist earth, gasping for more than just air. Maybe the roots I learn to put down will be transitive, ready to switch jars, preparing to move into a pot.  Maybe I am doomed to forever live in an old coffee jar. Or maybe I am blessed in that way.

So here's to my last two weeks at Moody Bible Institute. Here's to an unknown future. Here's to another series of goodbyes - may my tears be swallowed up in the vast waters of Lake Michigan, washed away by the river, and hidden in the crevices of the cracked sidewalks of my favorite city. Chicago.