I sat in church today and the passage of time smacked me in the face.
In three months, I will mark 20 years of successfully completing high school.
That means in seven months, I will mark 20 years since embarking on my college career.
There is no way I’m that old.
When did this happen?
Tonight I was looking for something and in my search I stumbled on my journals. Twenty years of writings in classes, in dorm rooms, in chapels, and a couple even in my car. Twenty years of dates and boyfriends. Twenty years of concerts and plays and sightseeing all over the country–and 18 months in Montreal.
I didn’t have time to reminisce just then, but it’s been too long since I leafed through my life. Sometimes reading old journals can be a tad masochistic of me–reliving pieces of my life that were incredibly painful. But mixed in with all that pain are pieces of my life that are happy.
I’ve done some really, really cool things the past twenty years. There’s only one thing I would change, but that’s a post for another day. If Tuesday is a snow day, I’ll tell that story…