03 November 2010

Musings on Last Times

I'm in a season of last times, a season where I'm starting to notice every time I drive that road and pass that house and see this sky. Sometimes I know: I won't be here again. And other times I just have to wonder, to let the warm autumn light stream through the window and hold me as I try to remember, just in case I don't see these moments again.

The first time is always fun and new and exciting. And then there are all the middle times, the ones that run together, that don't seem important at the time but that make up a life and that make it worth living.

And then there are the last times, the ones where I wish I could remember every single other time I've been here and done that, but I can't and so I'll remember this one: the last one.

It isn't until the last times that I realize just how much I've lived in this place, just how I've inhabited these roads and these buildings and this chair. Just how much they are a part of me.

It makes me sad, this long goodbye, and it makes me happy. At least I get to say goodbye.

At least I get to say goodbye.

And in truth, it's all goodbye, goodbye and hello. Each moment is a hello and a goodbye, for even if I have this place and these walls again tomorrow, I don't have this moment to be in them. And so the moments are a rich savory soup of vegetables jumbled together, hello-goodbye-hello-goodbye, and if I held all the hellos and all the goodbyes I'd lose my mind.

So I let God hold them. Release them into his hands, his big wide open hands, and ask him to keep them for me, to give them back if I need them, but mostly to keep them, somewhere safe and warm. Because they're treasures, these moments, precious, precious treasures and I don't want them to get cold and old.

And in the meantime, I will live in each moment. I will find what there is to feel and to savor, and I will drink it up because it's the moment I'm given. And my job is to be faithful with what I'm given. No more and no less than that.


Again I join Emily and her precious, imperfect community.






PS I may be around here less, these days. I have another writing project I'm throwing myself into, because it's time and my soul needs some good work to do. Rest assured, I will be here, and I will be on your blogs and I will be back when I'm done.

11 comments:

Karmen said...

Your blog has a way of speaking to me. Treasure the now. Live in the moment. A good reminder for me, so thank you. I hope that you aren't away for too long. I love to read what you have to say.

Brian Miller said...

every moment is a hello~good bye...yes it is...and each one his...

-t- said...

I will find what there is to feel and to savor, and I will drink it up because it's the moment I'm given. And my job is to be faithful with what I'm given. No more and no less than that.

amen :)

terri said...

i love this so much. i want so badly to live with this awareness. i need friends to remind me because i forget so easily. you're one of those friends. :)

joanny said...

Beautiful reminder of a daily practice -- it keeps us from be anxious, doubtful, fearful , for if we have faith

This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

cheers,
joanny

nice imperfect prose.

LauraX said...

such a beautiful post...rest assured...I like that. Blessings to you on this "other" writing journey.

emily wierenga said...

And so the moments are a rich savory soup of vegetables jumbled together, hello-goodbye-hello-goodbye, and if I held all the hellos and all the goodbyes I'd lose my mind.

i love this. i love every bit of this post. and the glory you give God in the cleaving and the leaving. may his grace pave your path, beautiful one. xo

alittlebitograce said...

mmm..to say goodbye well is a blessing and yet so hard. how do we say goodbye well? such a beautiful post.

Janis@Open My Ears Lord said...

These moments--precious, precious treasures. Yes, they are. What a thought provoking post. I so enjoyed it, Sarah.
Thank you.

Blessings,
Janis

Mama K said...

excellent words. highly challenging...in a gentle, enticing sort of way.

christianne said...

I like the way you see things, friend.

Thinking of you in this season of last times. They can provide such a mixture of feelings, I know.