Ephemera

I'm going to make a strange parallel, one I hope is not presumptuous.

Susan, the mother of the host family I'm living with (I can't bring myself to call her my host mom, because we're definitely too close in age for that), is nine months pregnant and has been at the "any day now" stage for a week. It's been frustrating for the whole house, of course Susan most of all. I got the text in the middle of the night last night that they were going to the hospital and my hopes soared, only to be crushed a few hours later with a text saying "never mind, coming home". Before I left for work today Susan and I discussed the frustration of waiting when she said something that rattled around my head for the rest of the morning -

"I was just so excited to return to normalcy!"

No, internship is not like pregnancy. Not really even at all. Don't hear me say that. But hearing that phrase struck so close to home. I hadn't realized it until then, but even as comfortable and happy as I have become in Columbus, it is still not normal. Normal is what I feel like I'm waiting for.

And then to solidify the emotion even further, she went on to say "I know when the baby is here, I'll feel like the pregnancy went by so fast, but right now it feels like this kid is never going to come!"

I get that! I know when I get home, I'm going to miss this place and feel like the seven months I spent here went by in a second! I already know I'll miss Tony, Susan, Ahbry Elle, Genesis, and this new little one we haven't even met. I'll miss someone yelling "lanch time!" down the row of cubicles to gather us for lunch. I'll miss the vibrancy and mild chaos of staff meetings. I'll miss the quiet mornings when I'm one of the two or three in the office when I get to sit and do research while sipping my wimpy and overly sweetened coffee. I'll miss the 6 am drives into the city on Sunday mornings, when it feels like Columbus is finally asleep. I'll miss hearing the stories of the homeless people who congregate in our office. I'll miss the independence that comes from doing my own grocery shopping.

But I still feel like I'm waiting for normal.

Likely it's due to what the ministry professors like to tell us is the "September slump" - interning is all well and good while all your friends are off on their own summer adventures, but when they all return to campus suddenly you're the only one missing and that is really no fun. I knew it was coming and it still punched me in the gut.

So it occurs to me - what do I learn from this bizarre parallel I've drawn? Well, when the next baby Williams finally comes, that will be the household's return to normalcy. They'll have this person for the rest of their family's life, and won't ever get to go back to a time when we called him/her simply Tidbit and there were only two little girls running around the house. For me, the rest of my life will be my normal, surrounded by the people I love in the place I've been given a passion to love and serve. But I won't ever get to come back to this part: the part where I get to be a part of a different family, the part where I serve a new and amazing place, the part where I learn so much about myself and ministry, the part where my job requires me to study and create and observe.

I'm still waiting for my own return to normalcy. But I'm going to enjoy the not-normal while I get to live in it.




ephemera
n. things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short time