Wednesday, April 2, 2014


Like many of my peers, I feel caught in two worlds. 

In a month from now I will walk across a stage and be handed a college degree.
I will say goodbye to the professors who have invested in my life, taught me to think critically, encouraged me to serve well, and have prepared me for academic excellence in the work field. 
I will leave a place I have called home for the past four years. Abilene, TX--a place not that exciting in and of itself, but made beautiful by the people it is shared with. 
I will leave a church family that has given me life, hope, and purpose. I will leave a community that has surrounded me, loved me, and honored me as the Daughter of the King that I am. 
I will leave friendships that have changed the very core of who I am--friendships that have caused me to be better, love deeper, ask questions, grow in holiness, and seek grace in any given situation. I will leave people who have healed my heart.
I will leave children that have taught me what it means to seek Jesus with all of my heart, children that have taught me that life isn't about success, achievements, and glory, but rather, our lives are to be humbly committed to the call of Christ. 
I will leave mentors that have shaped the way I think about the world, people that have challenged me to grow and have demonstrated first hand what a life lived for Jesus looks like. 

I will leave a home.
And a church.
And a community
And a city.
That has shaped me with mercy, grace, peace, strength, hope, faith, and love. 

And to leave this place of comfortability is scary. It's frightening. It's terrifying. 
To once again pack up and leave the comfortable and the familiar and embark on an unknown future leaves me in an extreme state of sentiment. 

But as sad, difficult, and hard as leaving this place will be--I could scream with excitement about the opportunities that lay ahead of me. In 282 days, I will marry the most wonderful man. We will begin a life together and build a family together and the love and grace of Jesus will be poured in and through our marriage and our family. 
I will move to a city I hardly know with new experiences, new places, new communities, and new excitements. I almost sit here impatiently as I wait for this to unfold. 
There is something exciting, intriguing, and expectant about an unknown future.
I couldn't be any more excited about the things that lay ahead of me as Jesus continues to reveal His plan and purpose for my life. God is so good. 

And as I feel caught in between two worlds (two wonderful, beautiful, happy worlds): the present reality of leaving the familiar and the exciting, uncertain future--I have found myself thinking a lot about moments. 

Moments, they matter. 
Each moment counts. 

These moments I've had here at ACU are moments I will cherish for the rest of my life. 
I will look back on them with love, and grace, and remembrance. 

But I'm learning that it's not the looking back upon that will matter.
It's not the yearning for the future and excitement of newness that makes a difference. 
My challenge and hope for myself and everyone else that finds themselves at a similar crossroads is that we remain fully present, fully here.

This moment is the only moment we can be truly alive. 

I want to be present in all the moments in my life. 
I want to be here when it's time to be here and I want to be there when It's time to be there. 
I don't want to be stuck wishing I could stay in this moment forever. 
And I don't want to be sitting around hoping only for what the future holds. 

I want to live each moment for what it is--to experience each moment for what it has to offer. 
I'm not guaranteed tomorrow, not even another second. 
I want to be a person that lives like this very moment is all I have, as it very well could be. 

I want to make these moments count. 
Because these moments add up to the story of my life--a story that by the grace of God will continue to unfold one day at a time. 

These moments aren't about what we could have done differently if we had had more time or how we could prepare better if we only understood the future. 

These moments are about living fully now as Christ created us to be. 

 May we live now in this moment as Beloved children of God. Worth dying for. Worth saving. Worth rescuing. Worth redeeming. Worth loving. May we love, no matter the moment we are in, because Christ created us. He simply made us. We exist. And we are here--here to proclaim His love to the world every moment of every day. Our moments matter. 

We are invited into a life with the one who has set us free. 
We are invited to grow into a life with Him as a God who knows. We may not know what's next or what will happen, but we can trust in a God who knows. 
.May we walk in faith, each moment, even if that means stumbling and falling along the way. 
Old things will pass away.
New things will come.
Wherever life takes us, whatever seasons, whatever disappointments, whatever struggles, whatever joys, whatever hardships, whatever circumstances, whatever failures, whatever choices--may we be people that live a "God with us" life. 

Immanuel, He is here, in this moment and the next and the next. 

May we be filled with His goodness, His light, and His love as we seek to be people that life here, right now, this very second. 

1 comment:

  1. What a wonderful reminder, Amy!
    This is something I really struggle with, living fully in the present and not daydreaming of the future (which takes me away from where I am now and can lead to ungratefulness). Thank you for this.
    And, congratulations! Many, many blessings on your life ahead!

    - Shannon (We met briefly through HOF a couple years ago.)