The "Good" in Goodbye

I don't understand the word "goodbye."

Saying goodbye isn't a happy affair, at least in my world. Saying goodbye means watery eyes and blotchy cheeks, a wet pillow and a headache, hugs that you never want to let go from. Saying goodbye means you won't be getting any sleep tonight. Saying goodbye means that a chapter of life is over; no matter how well you keep in touch, the truth is that the relationship will never be the same. There's nothing good about goodbyes.

I've never been one to like change. My mom likes to laugh about the time that she had to take me to the doctor to be tested for OCD when I was young, all because I found a freckle on my thumb. It was change, and it scared me. I ate the same sandwich for lunch every day all through elementary and middle school. It really rattles me when our family gets new furniture. I like consistency. I like dependability. I'm comfortable here and I don't see the need to change it. So these goodbyes are not good. They are heartbreaking-byes. They are grief-filled-byes. They are my lament this week.

Tears stream down my face as I think about the "goodbyes" of the last few days. They've been so very, very hard- with some of the hardest still to come. Yet I also must admit that I wouldn't want it any other way.

The fact that it is so hard to bid "adieu" to these people means so much to me- because it means that the relationships are real. These are the people who have defined my life and made me the person I am today. The childhood friends that I grew up with reading on the couch. The teenagers that I survived Calc BC and health with. The brave souls who risked their lives to try and teach me how to drive. The church that showed me what community looks like. The children who taught me how to set a good example and not take myself too seriously. The mentors who, by example, taught me how to lead. The women who have taught me how to be a great friend. The men that have filled in as a dad. The great-if sometimes annoying-brothers. The phenomenal mom. The family, whether they be blood related or not. These are the people who helped mold me. I find myself hoping that I'm just a little bit like them- that I'd have one person's sympathy, another's humor, a third's listening ear. I hope I have the heart that I've seen in all of them. I'm thankful every single day that God put them in my life.

It's hard to let them go.

I know that deep down I'm excited to grow, though. I'm excited, in part, for the homesickness, because I know it will force me to lean on God more, and that's good. Scary, but good. It's stretchy.

As painful as the goodbyes are, I must admit, too, that the next part terrifies me: the hellos. For in hellos you have to admit that you're vulnerable. You have to build up these relationships and hope and pray that people like you for who you really are-not like the old ones, where people have seen your dark side and still love you in spite of it. You have to be humble enough to admit that you can't really be alone. And it's scary, but good. It, too, is stretchy.

And so tonight, I will drown my sorrows in Canadian chocolate and bid farewell to the end of one chapter and hello to the beginning of another. Thank you to everyone who's been part of the last. I love you all so much. Here's praying for the strength and courage to say hello to the ones in the future.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9








Comments

  1. Pastor Andrew ThompsonAugust 22, 2012 at 5:14 PM

    We're all praying for you Mack! Can't wait to hear how you're doing in Montana!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Patty St. JohnAugust 22, 2012 at 8:24 PM

    That was beautiful writing, Mackenzie! Praying for you -- and your hopeful ministries -- in Montana!

    ReplyDelete

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