Every time I move I run through the sad gamut of saying goodbye to people I love spending time with on a regular basis. This week I finished my time at a job I loved, and said a rather heartbreaking goodbye to the people I work with. As I went to my last karate class, I thought about the many nights I spent at the dojo and how kind and patient my teacher and classmates were with me. Even now, hubby, roomie and I are preparing our last dinner in our house together.
These days are never easy for me; I hate goodbyes, and often try to pretend that I’ll be back again next week. As I prepare myself to leave a place, all I can think about is how much I’ll miss the people that I’ll be separated from. But I’m reminded that these “lasts” are an offering, part of the sacrifice required when you’re searching for God’s will in your life.
I remind myself that my goodbyes are symbolic of hellos, of the yes that I’m saying to a life laid out for me by a God who loves me. And I try to remember that saying goodbye eventually gives way to happy reunions, which I look forward to every time I think of my friends.