Lately I've been thinking about one year ago. Where I was and what I was doing. 

Every morning I got to school by 8:30 if not earlier. Most days I would stop in and say hi to Ms. Bottoms and work on newspaper related things in her room while talking photography with her. If I had an AP Bio test or quiz that day I was usually outside Mrs. Straits room begging one of the extremely smart kids in my class to explain to me what cytokinesis or cellular respiration was. At 8:41 the bell rang for first period to end and the very narrow halls of Memorial High school became overcrowded as we all scrambled to make the most of our 5 minute intermedium between classes.

Most days biology was interesting, but other days I just stared at the clock and waited for the bell to save me. I then would continue on to third period where Mr. McCardle would inform me of the newest newspaper disaster. The printer moved the deadline up a day, another ad cancelled on us, our photographers had again refused to turn in any pictures or do any work for that matter. We read books in third period. We talked about stories and people and read poems. We took stands on matters and learned to believe in ourselves. And if it was Monday, we got to share any college news we had. I still remember the Monday that I announced I received a scholarship to attend Mississippi College in the fall.

4th period was calculus, which meant Mr. Harter, which meant at least a five minute debrief with the collective guys in our class about "the game" last night. I never knew which "game" they were talking about. But nonetheless, if someone was throwing, kicking, or hitting some type of ball, they talked about it. 

Then I had A lunch, which, at the beginning of the year, was a real bummer. But it turned out to be a pretty sweet deal. I got to know four awesome girls. A completely motley crew, but still some of my favorite people. 

Newspaper was always, as I said before, a disaster. But a beautiful one at that. That class was a place where I learned how to step up and get things done. I learned how to make decisions and take charge. I saw that hard work really does pay off in the end. I found photography there. I saw the Lord's purpose there. I witnessed the Lord's faithfulness there.

Mr. Walton always made 6th period a little more interesting. He once did an impersonation of a guy on a roller coaster that almost made the kid next to me pee his pants. The man was a die hard LSU fan, so I wasn't crazy about him from the beginning.

There's been something about life lately that's got me stopped. As each day passes, more and more of my life is here in Mississippi. I've spend a total of about four weeks in Houston this past year. All those people that I saw growing up day in and day out, I don't see anymore. 

But that's just it. I don't want those people to leave my life. I want to see their faces again. I want to talk about life like we used to. I'm sick of always being apart from people, but at this stage in life, I feel like I'm always away from somebody. I'm excited about being home for a little bit and then going off to camp this summer, but it's killing me that I have to leave MC for four months. 

I refuse to pack up my room, because it means that this year is actually ending. I know it's just the beginning for me here, but there's just something about this year that I don't want to end. I don't want things to change. I don't want to have to start over again next fall. I don't want to spend my summer away from people.

But there's something about this summer that the Lord keeps whispering in my ear. It must happen. Not that it has to, but that it must. There are some things that need to happen this summer for me to be the person I need to be this fall. There are lessons that I need to learn. There are people I need to meet. There are instances where I need to grow.

And then in due time, it will be late August and we'll all be back together. We'll be moving new freshman into the dorm. A new wave of girls will rush NT, and life will go on. Life always goes on.

And I'm learning that that's ok. Change is good. Newness is good. But most of all, our God is so good and so much greater than this little life I lead.