Today was my final Friday. (Not to be confused with next Wednesday, my official
last day.)
The final Friday was emotional. I am truly the most sentimental person I
know. I save scraps of papers from
events, souvenirs from special moments—and just hold on. Cling.
This is probably why letting go is so painstakingly
difficult.
I cleaned out my station today (for less work to be done
on Wednesday), and just examined my bare desk.
I scoured the tiny breakroom. This little, dingy corner of space has served
as a respite from the world. A place
where tears were shed and prayers were prayed.
It’s where I froze up after the breakup, where test results were
received, and where the news of the miscarriage was given.
Emotional.
Sentimental. Meaningful.
To add to the sentiment, Saturday will be my last day
helping at Germantown Poplar, the branch where my career all began. No longer will I be able to step behind the
row as a teller. The entire world is
going to feel foreign.
Why does God trust me with this?
Because He does.
Because every day is a refining fire.
The more uncomfortable the situation, the more refining
the fire.
It’s about to get real hot up in here.
And if God is giving me new challenges, that can’t be
bad, right? The more He entrusts me
with, the more He must trust me, right? Psalm 18:30 says, “As for God, his way
is perfect.” And if I’m following Him,
that means I’ve got the right compass, right?
Precious, precious Jesus who gave His life for me, let me
do what must be done, to show my love for thee.
Following Jesus to the ends of the earth sometimes starts
with a few practice steps down the street—or, to be more precise, a 40 minute
drive downtown.
Four days and counting.
