a collection of loose change

Part Three: California

Of all the days I wish I could tell you about, it’d be today. I’d tell you about my lunch with Blake. It was like a dream—meeting the guy who started Toms Shoes. You’d love the story because you know how much it means to me—or at least that’s what I’d like to believe. Of course you love Toms too so that would be part of it. I imagine you’d listen to my excitements and frustrations and crazy ideas. Like how I want to drop out of school and to travel the country putting on painting parties or move to California to become an intern. You of course would probably challenge me with that line like you always do, ya know, “do it, you won’t.” But we both know that was mine to begin with and it stopped working on me ages ago. And when I had finished and all my thoughts were painted before you, you’d bring me back down to earth just like you always do.

Yes, one of the most important days of my life, and you weren’t there.

Part 2: Winter & Spring

Thursday, oh Thursday. Yesterday hurt, but not quite as much as Tuesday; and Tuesday, not quite as much as Monday. Each day is better then the last as anger gives way to sorrow and sorrow to silence. Even these ponderings of my heart will eventually give way to something else, springing forth a tiny seed of peace. Then, that seed, nurtured and tended by my heavenly father, will little by little grow. Never will I understand this process of healing, but how grateful am I that it exists- grateful for the knowledge that healing doesn’t mean forgetting but forgiving and that good-byes, whether temporary or forever, sting with a pain that last only a season. That, in that season, that winter, we may cling to the hope that spring is just around the bend.

            Today, I found hope.

[[This is for the wounded soul.]]

Part 1: I am

The sun is shining through open windows and music blares across the speakers. Sunglasses on my face, bare feet on the dashboard, and my hand gliding through the highway air- I am 21 years old and I feel alive.

            I enjoy riding most when Andrew drives. This is his playground and I feel safe. The atv glides around corners, spewing dirt every which way. Myles remarks on the people following us and together we all laugh. Occasionally Andrew gets a rush and we go speeding head on into a dip in the road, sending cool water and mud in every direction and covering the three of us head to toe. I am free.

            I took a weekend to heal, to leave you behind. But even after I turned off my phone I still checked four times to see if you had called. Today though, I will let you go. Sitting beside the lake I am still. My soul rests in the sanctuary of this place. If I cry for you, it will only be one tear- enough to say this is really goodbye. Today I will leave you with a gift, wanting nothing in return. Not your friendship, not your love, not even your gratitude. I am relieved.

            There is an interesting dynamic in being here; so many memories to recall and still a future unbound by possibilities. It is a place to look back and laugh, to look forward and dream. Here my heart can mend, even forgive. Here it is safe, if only for a moment. I am at peace.

            I hope I can come back to this place someday when I am old. I hope I can run my fingers through dust and ash and reminisce on days filled with joy and evenings encompassed by worship. I hope I can wade into the lake and marvel at fears overcome, adventures endured. I hope for a moment I feel 21 and alive. I hope I will return having changed the world, found a love that defied destiny and still looks forward to a future uncharted. I am hopeful.
           For if the greatest tragedy is a man lives only to die, give me a heart that knows only how to live