A Sculpted Heart

After saying yet one more good-bye to a treasured friend moving into a new season of life and out of my own, I find myself thinking again on the significance of community and what it does for a person. I can't say that good-byes are fun, neither can I say they are easy, but one thing that I am certain of is that they leave a mark.

After this particular good-bye, I feel like I've been able to put a finger on something that I've felt in every good-bye but haven't been able to articulate. And it's this: No matter who the friend, how close I become to them, or how deep a love I have for them, I inevitably give them a piece of my heart and I get a piece of theirs. This is why a good-bye is such a hard thing. There is a piece of my heart in this person, and they are leaving with it; taking a piece of me that I'll not get back.

At first thought of this, I was startled to find that I am loosing bits of my heart here and there. I thought that I should be saving those pieces or something, saving them for God, or my future wife, or kids, or something big like that. But then I realized something important. With every piece that's taken from me, I become someone a bit different each time. With every chip, my heart takes on a new shape. This, in turn, slowly sculpts me into the person who I will be, and has thus far made me the person I am today.

Relationships, loves, friendships, crushes, all of these social connections are God's tools that He uses to sculpt us into the person whom we will become. Michelangelo's David wasn't poured into a mold, it was carved out of a solid piece of marble. If little pieces (and very big pieces) had not been chipped away, it would still remain just a rock. But because it lost bits of itself, bits of what it once was, it is now a timeless masterpiece.

My heart is much the same. If I refuse to let go of pieces to those who would take them, I will remain the same person who I am today, not changing, not growing, not being refined into something more, but just living, just being. By allowing myself to feel the pain and grief of every good-bye, the sorrow of watching a piece of myself leave with someone I love, I allow my heart to be sculpted into something that will be unique and all the more beautiful with every loss.

Good-byes are hard, and they are sad, and they are most definitely painful...

But they are good.

Untitled Reflection #26

I find myself at the end of a calm summer in a college town, facing the imminent return of the students and the subsequent bustle that accompanies them. In my little corner of Manhattan, home to Kansas State University, I'm watching this transformation take place. As the coffee houses fill up again and the roads once more become a bit more dangerous, I feel my mind fill with anticipation. In my spirit I feel a reinvigoration, and in my heart an excitement grows. But why?

I suppose it could be the prospect of facing the unknown. The tension of not knowing who I will meet if I take a stroll across town, mingling with the possibility of getting to know new and interesting people. It could be... But I don't think that's it. I've been thinking about this, and I think I've discovered where this feeling welling up inside me is coming from. Simply put, it's life. It's the life that is beginning to happen around me.

As students come back into Manhattan and repopulate the houses and apartment complexes that have been sitting empty all summer in a calm silence, they bring with them an esprit air, an atmosphere of intelligence and independence, and occasionally one of hilarious and sometimes hazardous idiocy. There comes with returning students an excitement that seems to hang in the air.

The new freshmen coming to college for the first time leaving their parents behind and beginning a new chapter that will preface the story of their lives in the "real world". The returning student meeting friends after a summer apart. The fraternities and their inhabitants filling the air with the smell of burning charcoal, seared meat, beer, and the occasional obscenity, and their female counterparts preparing to judge and indoctrinate brand new sorority sisters into the culture of consumer fashion. And, of course, the lawn parties dotting the lawns of every street, letting loose the sounds of clanking washers and loud music while brandishing signs that say things like "You honk, We drink". All these things, these people just doing what they will, combines to form the strange and unique experience that is life in a college town. Life beginning to happen all around me creates a sort of energy that reaches into my being and plucks a string that resonates with the life that is simultaneously happening within me.

I'm part of this dance. I'm the non-student, watching all this happen from the outside with a smile, remembering that I was once on the inside of it all. I was once the new freshman, I was once the dorm-dweller rushing through the madness of move-in day, I was once a contributor to the chaotic ballet that is college life. I've put in my time and I've had my fun. I'm now content watching it from the outside while composing my own new and unique part of this never ending dance called life.