A few hours ago, I said good-bye for two weeks to the friend
who has become one of my very closest here at Candler.
Tomorrow she’s headed back home to do last-minute preparations for the
ceremony, get married, and, of
course, honeymoon! Now, there are probably
only very, very few reasons for a temporary parting that are more wonderful or
joyous, and yes, I know, two weeks is a pretty short amount of time. However, as I waved her on her way, I felt
it—that unmistakable wallowing feeling that makes your insides heavy, your eyes
a little watery, your mind a tad mushy.
After all, I sat there thinking to myself, this is the friend I do everything with! We sit together in
class, sit outside together “working” (ie, chatting) between classes, go to chapel
together, fill up our water bottles before and after everything together, sometimes
even talk on the phone together on our ways back to our houses, and well, you
get the idea! Almost as soon as she was
out of sight, I felt this pang of loneliness settle for a moment, only to then
feel immediately foolish for feeling it, seeing as I’d been sitting by myself
for a grand total of two minutes!
Shortly after, I made myself enter Pitts Theological Library
with the goal of knocking out a bit of a Pastoral Care paper prior to a dinner
event for which I needed to stay on campus another little while. Though Pitts houses one of the best
collections of theological material in the nation and has been noted for its
distinctive architecture, I had yet to really venture inside (barring the
requisite campus tour last spring) owing to the fact that, at least in my
memory, it was very dark and very pink. However,
as I made my way up to the third floor, I was taken aback by the way each study
carrel was nestled between two short stacks of bookshelves on both sides, all
up against these sweeping outward-facing windows. Just as I sat down, the sun shifted in a way
that sent rays pouring through the blinds, covering the books around me with a
thick golden hue. The picture I took
doesn’t do it justice a) because I am a terrible photographer (just about the
worst) and b) not having a camera on me and so taking this instead on my
laptop, I couldn’t for the life of me figure how to capture the scene without
being in it myself…basically, you should have been there with me!
Again, I’m sure in some of your minds the whole formula of
“friend leaving” plus “beautiful library” equates to something along the lines
of “Janelle is a wee bit crazy.” Which, as
I also conceded earlier, is likely quite true in a sense! What it is I am trying to communicate,
however, is just how truly good it was for my whole being to sit there soaking
up the setting sun’s rays, surrounded by those gorgeous, dusty old books. (Arguably less great for my sinuses, surely,
but oh so good for my soul!) Sitting there,
not working at all on the aforementioned paper, I was reminded yet again of how
deep is my need to cultivate more gratitude in my daily life. Earlier in the year, I’d been working hard to
remind myself that gratitude and trust belong in that large box in my head that
I so often jam full with worries. But
today, God and those lovely, lovely library windows reminded me that gratitude
is meant to overflow into the spaces I’ve carved out for self-pity just as
much, until that too is transformed into something good, maybe even golden.
Thanks
for listening (even and especially when I don’t make all that much sense!),
Janelle
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