I guess the hardest thing about leaving is knowing that I really haven't established myself. I haven't really TRULY kindled friendships... any long-lasting ones, anyway. It's hard to even admit it. I'd like to think that someone will miss me. That I've made my mark. That I've had some kind of effect. Made some kind of imprint.
But you know, honestly... I was a blip on their radar. And eventually the bright green blip fades to black again, and their interest is directed to the new blip. And so it goes.
Perhaps one of the most difficult things about being in the ministry is the moving. But, harder than the logistics of that is the implications, the complications of it. Moving means that while I were just setting up... getting comfortable... about to relax, knowing that the real me is acceptable (or at times not acceptable) here... I uproot and start all over again. And, this time... it's a new culture... new environment... new climate. So... I do.
And, I don't say this to complain. Though I realize it sounds an awful lot like complaining.
So, as I purge my home of all it's things... scoot together my sentimental items... I wonder why the phone isn't ringing. They know I'm leaving in a few days, right? Then again... I remember... this place was full of drama... and me leaving hardly qualifies as drama. It's a day in the life.
But not for me. I can honestly say that I cracked open the pages to my heart here. Some folks liked me okay... several did not. I can say that I know now that I wasn't created for the South. God, I guess intended for me to be a westerner or a northerner... or a somewhere-else-terner. But not the south. I just don't fit it. At least not here. So... back to Canada I go. Wonder who I'll find there. Or will I experience culture-shock returning to my homeland 17 years later?
-Jennifer-