Friday

Today everyone I met was exceptionally nice. People I’ve never talked to in my life started conversations with me, more boys held open doors, and my roommate went out of her way to say hello. “What in the world is…,” and then I realized, “Spring Break!” I don’t think I’ve seen so many smiles, or gotten so many nods of approval, while walking across campus.

Lately Nacogdoches and I have been having a sort of love/hate relationship. I feel like I’m constantly plucking pine needles off of a large branch and saying, “Nacogdoches loves me… He loves me not.” So to hear that I could leave, would leave, was leaving suddenly made me proceed throughout Friday with urgency. I came to the conclusion that the faster I listened to the teacher, bobbed my foot in anticipation, and sped through daydreaming about putting my key into the ignition, the sooner I would be ready to leave.

I practically hummed from speed as I spun around tossing everything I could ever dream of taking home in my suitcase. And in my second suitcase... And in my backpack. Afterwards, now feeling positively giddy that I made it through packing, I bounced all the way out of my apartment and swirled up an elevator to my shiny white car. “Fabio,” I said, “My friend, it has been too long!” Fabs just sat there. I began patting the back fender as my heart swelled with pride. I spun my way down and through the parking garage, found North street, rolled down my windows, and couldn’t contain myself any longer.

Wind gushed through my hair.

My hand met sunshine, palm up.

I popped open my bottle of soda.

After three hours or so I was met by a wiggly puppy who rolled around and around my feet,
two gangly, loud, teenagers, and the bristles of my own carpet.

New

Three nights ago, I encountered God in a musty sanctuary.

It began with me thinking through everything that I’ve done. I began with the big topics that He and I have sorted through, dissected, flipped over, overanalyzed and discussed, and wondered if I was missing forgiveness for something. So I dug deeper. Here was our conversation:

“Oh God… I guess I can ask forgiveness for-“

Upon which I was cut off. I heard my own voice, or at least it sounded exactly like my own voice, except that it spoke to me with authority. And so my inner-dialogue said:

“-Stop.”

“I have forgiven you. You are forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. You are free. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Free. Free. Free. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven.

I will forgive you a thousand times a million times.”

It repeated “forgiven” to the point where it was almost embarrassing for it to be said again. But I realized that it’s finally true. It’s always been true. I am not identified by anything from my past. My past is over, it is finished. I accepted Christ three years ago, but am continually being re-created. I am a new creation.

Reader, I don’t want it to seem that I sat down and tried to make this sound more emotional or beautiful than the actual event, and debated posting this because I'd like to run away from writing anything sounding "spiritual" or "religious". But, if it brings any encouragement to you, then here it is.