Right after I typed the word “lingering” I did a double take because I thought I might have typed the word “lingerie” o.O.
Anyway, when I was a kid (age-wise) I was a pretty sentimental sorta gal. Every trinket in my room held significance because “this toy came from my best friend in grade one” and “this card was made by someone who cheered me up when I was being bullied in grade six” and “these rocks came from a friend’s hike and she thought they looked so cool in the riverbed.” Trinkets were important because they represented the momentary halt of the laws of time and space, and I could access moments in my past and my friends’. I liked lingering on those memories because they were parts of life that I had the blessing to inhabit.
I still like lingering, now. (And if you keep on reading the word lingerie and it’s totally spoiling the post for you I apologize. I can’t read my own writing without giggling a little).
I take my sweet time drinking a last cup of tea when my family goes out to dim sum (because dim sum is some crazy-good indulgence) and I don’t mind sitting on the grass and meditating on His Word (until a giant spider crawls down the front of my jacket. True story). And with the change of university and community I am feeling the urge to stay a little longer in the familiar, rather than rush headlong into the strange. I’m typing this at my alma mater in MacHall while contemplating whether to go for A&W, Pita on the Run or Subway (although I’m sure there’ll be enough subs this coming school year too). I hung around the last fellowship planning meeting on request but also because I already missed the counselor team and the small group leaders. In leaving them I realized that I might not be back for more than several years, depending on where God leads me and I’m tempted to stay just a bit more, pray just a bit more with them, because there’s still so much more about them and about FLOW that I haven’t appreciated.
If you’re savvy on what’s going on in my life, you’ll realize that the title to my first post holds some foreshadowing as to my soon-to-be transplant from one province to another. I don’t think it should be a big deal, and a lot of people keep reminding me that a year passes by really quickly, but at the same I don’t think a year can be discounted so deeply. Forget a year; people can change a lot in the period of a week or a month. What’s fifty-two weeks going to do to the community I’ve grown up with, or the community I get to know? Without a doubt I’ll move on, just as you will with your own life, dear reader. But take the time to appreciate the good place you are in, too, and don’t move away too fast. Life is beautiful right now, and I’ll dawdle, delay and linger once more to appreciate all that is right here.