Tonight (Sunday April 27), a few friends and I escaped the madness of finals week in Clemson to go study at Coyote Coffee, where as usual, the amount of laughter was greater than the amount of studying. On our ride back, my friend, Ben, rode with me. With the sounds of Penny and Sparrow echoing in the background, we spoke of Jesus and life and college, and then he asked me: "Have you had a good year this year?"
All the sudden, the memories came flooding back. And they overtook me, almost to the point where it took me too long to answer, yes- absolutely.
Imagine a transformation, a heart change. And then, think bigger than that. Then, add in joy, abundance, sacrifice, dependence, a couple of tears, full cars and full hearts, voices singing praises to the Lord, desperation, growth, and pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
Imagine five girls huddled together, holding hands on a frigid night, praying a last minute prayer at 3 AM for help to come to get their car out of a ditch, then a tow truck arriving less than two minutes later.
Imagine a sunset that envelopes the sky in pinks and yellows and oranges. The lake even appears pink because the glory is overtaking and the darkness couldn't put it out. And imagine the arms of friends around you as you take it all in.
Imagine rushing through an exam just to get to a Steve Moakler concert an hour away with a girl you barely know well enough to call a friend. And then imagine loving the car rides there and back more than the concert itself and leaving with a new friendship that makes your heart smile.
Imagine orange overalls and coats and gloves and scarves. Imagine the lights turning on in death valley, the eruption of cheers, and the appreciation of being fed food you didn't pay for.
Imagine twinkly lights and dips and spins and twirls, silliness and awkwardness, new moves and flips. Then imagine Dancin' in the Moonlight, Footloose, and Hold Back the Night.
Imagine irrational adventures, but gallons of gas never wasted. Imagine road trips and coffee and the perfect playlists. Imagine rainy days and sunny days, silence and laughter and stories. And then imagine a friendship that teaches you how to look more like Jesus without even realizing it until much later.
Imagine sitting on top of a mountain, overlooking the world below, and the soft strums of a guitar as voices slowly join in, one by one. Imagine sunrises and frozen waterfalls and capturing every moment. Imagine a long wooden table and family style meals. Imagine conversation that could change the world, and open hearts.
Imagine serving food and setting an uncountable number of tables multiple times a day, to perfection. Imagine getting to witness your friends show their friends who Jesus is. Imagine a conversation that would encourage for days to come.
Imagine unwanted solitude, on the side of a mountain. Imagine desperation, and then imagine dependence, then all surpassing, incomprehensible peace that overtakes worry.
Imagine lake side picnics, and too many birthdays to handle in the span of four days.
Imagine open ears and an open heart, listening to the older and wiser. Imagine observing actions when others aren't even aware of the impact they are making. Imagine seeing Christ in those seen day in and day out, and imagine the sadness of watching them go. But then, imagine the joy of seeing loose ends being tied, a page being finished, only to have a blank set appear.
Imagine Wednesday nights at 9, the time where friendships were cultivated, eyes were opened, and decisions were made. Imagine the acquaintances that became friends before you knew it, and imagine all of the conversations over coffee that stemmed from that. Imagine life change, heart change.
Imagine a night where life actually changed forever, and the excitement is tangible. Imagine unreal connections made known, and inevitable best friendships. Imagine a purpose, a place to pour out, and to watch the Lord do what only He can do. Imagine hope and thankfulness and tears and smiles and laughter. Imagine learning to die to yourself for the sake of the Gospel, all for the Gospel.
Imagine a chapter begun, and a fourth of it come to completion. Imagine the nostalgia, the sweet memories, and a heart that could burst from joy. Imagine the tears of sadness because it is about to escape for a little while. Imagine the grasp to hold on, and the realization that the only way to hold on is to let go, to free fall, with faith that it will return when the time is right.
Can you picture that? I can. I lived it. And to think this all occurred in about 9 months. It almost seems like a dream, an impossible dream. But it wasn't. Jesus intricately created this experience just for me, and He chose for it to happen at Clemson, and to weave the right people together so beautifully. Sometimes, one school year is all it takes for your world to turn upside down in the best kind of way.
Clemson, I'll miss you this summer. I'll miss your rolling hills, and the explosions of color in your skies. I'll miss staying up too late and I'll miss dancing until my feet hurt. I'll miss the conversations that put an imprint on my heart, the ones that leave my brain challenged, and the ones that leave tear streaks on my face from laughing. I'll miss the frustration, and the struggle to find a hiding place. I'll miss the sweet mountain air taken in while exploring, and I'll miss the exchange of the depths of hearts. And maybe, just maybe, I'll miss the hours upon hours spent in the classroom, and those late library nights where not much studying got done. I'll miss it all. And pictured or not, you made a difference, whether it was directly or indirectly, whether you know it or not- you did make a difference.
Jesus, thank You. Just thank You. You stretched me in ways I didn't know I could be stretched and You gave me what I needed. There were mountaintops and there were valleys, and now a year has passed, and Jesus, You are greater still.
