Michigan ~ Day 63

We broke a grand today in the cafe; Kelly thought it felt harried, but I thought it felt slow. Haha. I dunno, maybe anything compared to yesterday now feels slow to me.

The whole crew met at Sharon’s at 7 for dinner and drinks, and then we headed out at about 8 for a ride on the Pointer. I brought my guitar. The crew consisted of Jimmy, Marci, Ollie, Benjamin, KK, Jake, Jill, Chris, Tim, Kelly, Patrick, KJ, Sharon, and myself. We enjoyed snacks, more drinks, a rainbow, a gorgeous sunset, and only a very light rain. It was our last team building event of the season, and also a going away party for Tim in particular, although a total of five of us will be gone within the next two weeks.

I thought I had more to say on the matter, but words fail me. Out of all the groups of people that I’ve worked with, this one sets and breaks so many records. It is the place at which I felt completely at home most quickly, got along with the most people, stayed on good terms with the most people, felt most free to be myself soonest, have never gotten yelled at, never gotten into a seriously heated fight or even remotely close to an argument… and the list goes on and on.

I know it can’t last forever, but I’m a little apprehensive about going home. I’ll be thrilled to be back at home with my family and eating Mother’s superb food, but I am totally not in school mode, and I’m literally going back to school the day after I get home from Michigan. I’ve been watching St. Max’s YAM and I seem to have missed a lot; I’m wondering just a bit if it’ll take me longer than I originally thought it might to get back to feeling completely comfortable with that group. Many of my closer MCI friends have graduated, which means that we’ll all have an even harder time of getting together… or ever seeing each other again at all, for that matter, as in the case of Anthony, who leaves for the military in a few days, and whose grad/going away party I’ll be missing tomorrow. Marcha’s gone from THE. I won’t be in a kitchen, and I’m sort of freaking out. Since most of my work friends are living here on the farm and the car is my own, it’s easy to find a healthy balance of work, hanging out, and me time.

I think prior to this summer, I’ve worried a lot about what I’m going to do with myself when school is over. I think I’ve said somewhere before that in retrospect, none of my plans made prior to beginning college included me not being married and focused on a family by now. I know I’ve still got two years left – four if you count FUS, and maybe a little more if I decide to make that enology degree happen – and anything could happen. But these past three years have flown, and the next two will fly as well, and then what? Trusting in Him completely doesn’t mean not coming up with an entirely pragmatic, spiritually and physically and emotionally healthy game plan.

The biggest thing this summer has done for me, in a nutshell, is that it has assured me that I can do absolutely anything I put my mind to. We hear it all the time from parents and friends and teachers, but we have to reach that point where we really do know that we believe it ourselves. Before this summer, I know I had my doubts. I still do, occasionally, like while watching the olympics and wondering if maybe I just didn’t want it badly enough and asking myself why not. But priorities have changed – so what now?

I laughed a bit at Yards when he asked me what my five-year plan was, and I said I really had no idea past UC, except for possibly FUS. But his question bothered me more than I thought it would and hasn’t left me, not because I don’t believe that He has a super plan for me that I cannot possibly imagine, but because even with God, it’s a perfectly legit question, and one that I had a concrete answer for three years prior, yet have struggled with more recently. I guess you think those things through pretty well when you’re on call for your country.

I was talking to Mum on the way here about going home. It may seem strange that of all the places I’ve been, I consider home to be the place where I’ve spent barely a year total out of my life – the motherland. Maybe it really is time to start thinking about going home – how to make it happen and what I’d do if I actually made it there. It’s a part of my self that I don’t think I’ve explored and appreciated to its fullest potential, and I’m afraid of losing it – not as a part of me, but the part that should be in my legacy – in my children, God willing.

At the pig roast, I heard the speaker say that our children don’t inherit the land from their parents, rather we borrow the land from our grandchildren. In every way that you could possibly take it, isn’t that so true?


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