Change I Finally Realized

For an extrovert such as myself, I never thought that sitting alone could be so invigorating. Sitting alone on the front steps of my house looking into the neighborhood that I had grown so fond of. Sitting with silence. The silence that can only be heard on a late summer night in Bothell. A silence that brings you into such ponder, not just because of the lack of sounds, but because of the lack of certainty that was rushing through my head. It is almost as if the silence that resounded so heavy in my brain was symbolically taking up the space that held my future. 

The day was August 22nd, about one a.m. In about six short hours I would have to say goodbye to a town that had been called my home for eighteen years. A house that had seen my first words and steps. The home that saw my change from death to life. The home that brought me so much comfort when I was struggling. I had to say goodbye to something that was so instrumental in my life. It was not just that I had to give up a house, I had to give up a home. I had to leave my loving mother and father. A family that cared so much for me. I had to leave a neighborhood that has grown closer though death. This neighborhood brought upon the deepest grieving that I have ever gone through. This neighborhood held my best friend. This neighborhood held my childhood memories of playing basketball and cops n robbers. This place was my home. Not to mention Northshore, The Ranch, and also CPC.

There is something about giving up something in your life that you love. Because it was such a thing that was so ingrained in my head, if I were to remove it, it would leave a hole. There is a desperate need to fill that hole. Although God is truly enough, He created man to be in community. When one looses a community such as I have, there is a tough struggle that goes along with it. You strive to regain what you once had, and it is not easy.

Early on in my life at Biola, I tried to do just that. I tried to replace the community that I had built up over eighteen years in Bothell. I tried to force something that was not there. Community changes, and now that I am writing this over two months later, I now understand that. Community is not something that can be transferred from one place to another. Community must grow from the ground up. And now that I have realized that, I thank God for that.

If community were to transfer, we would be terribly boring people. We would never change. I was recently watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother where Ted and Victoria (a past lover) had gotten back in a relationship, and they were having problems (no surprise here). Ted claimed that the relationship clock restarts, while Victoria claims that the clock was just put on hold. Either way, the relationship was doomed to change, why? Because the two entities of the relationship had changed, but the relationship in it self did not change. 

If I were to expect the same community between me and my men on THEO (my hall) it would not work out. I would be like Victoria and think that the same community that I had, is the same community that I expect and demand out of THEO. 

This is wrong, because I have changed. I am no longer the same person that i was two months ago. I have a completely new set of friends. I have a new living community. I have a new church (Calvary Community in Brea). I have a new focus within my studies (Youth Ministry). I even have someone knew that I live with (Chase, you are amazing).

All in all, what I am trying to say is that I have finally figured out that La Mirada =/= Bothell. Biola =/= CPC. and Calvary =/= Northshore. This is crazy right? It could be one of the most obvious things ever, and yet i somehow have yet to grasp the full nature of change until November 7th at 11:40 at night... 

yeah... it has taken seventy six days to realize that my life has changed... and I love it.