Life right now is blurred between busy shopping in my home town for last-minute items to rushed tears outside the terminal with my family. To flights that so effortlessly breeze over half the United States to the foggy town of Easton, Maryland with my team leader, soon departing from us for the next six months of life. To road trips down the east coast to quiet Gainesville, full of laughter and homemade brownies. To a short few days back at our campus in Georgia, back to sleeping on the floor and bursts of tears when reminded of the goodbyes that were going to be a reality soon. 

At the moment, life is fast and anxious and exciting and new and old. I’ve been reflecting on the idea of transitioning between seasons of life and the complacent nostalgia it brings. I’ve never been good at “transitioning well”, the goodbyes are uncomfortable and the hellos' are nervous. I feel like the world has been in a constant state of transitioning since march when the pandemic hit, that, as a generation, we have become indifference to idea of change, always expecting the worst and adapting to it. We are in a time of malleability and not expectancy.  

In reflection of all the transitioning between seasons of change, seasons of slowness, seasons of growth to seasons of passion and seasons of newness, I’ve noticed the importance of transitioning. Our squad mentor once explained to us, “The way you end a season, dictates how you begin a season”. The simple phrase holds so much truth. 

To begin further expedition of ourselves, others and the world around us, we must understand ourselves and our experiences. I want to be a person of faithfulness and integrity, to be deliberate and present. I’ve realized I cannot experience the present without fully celebrating, mourning and contemplating the past. 

So, here we are in the Atlanta Airport, 10 hours before I hop on a plane and spend the next six months of my life in different countries, loving on others and experiencing more of the Lord’s inexhaustible love. Celebrating the past three months of painful, slow growth, where I learned so much about my heart, even the parts that weren't very pretty, and learned even more about the Father’s heart for us. Celebrating three months of relentless community and days of laughter and tears. Celebrating a slow pace of life that absolutely terrified me at first but introduced me to the power of stillness. Celebrating three months of tent-living, bucket showers, hand-washed moldy clothes and no real toilets or mirrors in sight. 

Cheers to the good, the hard, the uncomfortable, the easy, and everything in between. Cheers to the Father’s goodness and love through it all. Cheers to the small moments of transitioning that seem minuscule and uncomfortable. His goodness shines in it all.