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i can feel myself desperately grasping for control.  any amount of it over any manner of thing holds out the promise of quelling this turmoil.  but it won’t.  it won’t.

Words, tears, nor prayers feel sufficient enough to express how thankful I am for the past four years. On the ride home, I was telling my dad that I am so blessed to be as sad as I am right now - that I had the privilege of partaking in a fellowship of brothers and sisters whom I love so much that it physically hurts to part.

But, amidst the mourning for the loss of a community is the solid promise that I have God. I have God. I have God. I have a Savior. I have the Spirit. I have the Word. I can pray. God is faithful, good, alive, and sovereign. All is never lost. I have much to gain. I am young in age and faith. I have the beginnings of a foundation, now it’s time to crawl, then walk, then run. Fight. Depend. Grow.

As I painfully made my way around the room yesterday saying goodbye, I ended with Pastor Shiyon. After a mini-sob session on each other’s shoulders, she pried me away from her, grabbed me by the shoulders, and told me she loved me. Then, she looked me straight in the eyes with one of the most intense and desperate looks I’ve seen from her yet and said, “Be faithful.”

Yes. By the grace of God. Yes.