Moving On

"It's over."

I couldn't believe what I was saying. "It's completely over." How did I get to this point? How could this be true? After all the time I had spent, how could it be over? I was so committed, so involved, so ready to give my time and thoughts towards this.

"Lost is finally over."

I'm not joking. I have been legitimately depressed dealing with the absence of Lost from my life. After 6 seasons, it's finally done. Dunzo. Finished. It may seem like a weird obsession, but ask any person who has been a devoted Lost fan, and they will agree in the significant sadness that has set in now that the show has completed its run. Ok, let's be honest. That's really sad. Ha. But still, it was a great show, and there is this nagging feeling that there won't be another show like it ever again.

Really though, we are just talking about a show here. Something on television. It's all fictional, and a year from now I'm sure there will be some new show that I'm completely enthralled with. Still, I loved Lost, and I especially loved how it ended. Really, the final season was so great because it had so many allusions to Christianity. Are our choices real, or are they just mirages of a greater destiny that fuel our feet towards an inevitable ending point? I could go on and on, but I'll just say that the final season was rocking.

Many people have expressed their dislike with the way the finale ending. Long before it aired, the executive producers acknowledged the controversy that would exist. "Some people may hate it, but others... others I think will look back and appreciate what we've done here." Or something like that. I wish I could give an exact quotation, but really I'm just making up what I think they said, ha. Still, I liked the ending.

Be warned, if you don't want it ruined, don't keep reading.

Lost ends with Jack Shephard, the protagonist and hero of the show, speaking with his dead father, Christian. Realizing that he himself has died, and with certain fear in his eyes, he manages to say, "Kate said that we're leaving." Christian Shephard smiles and simply answers, "No. No. Not leaving." He pauses for a moment before quietly stating, "Just moving on." I love that. I really, really do. One chapter has ended, and a new one is beginning, one that leaves our imagination to wonder what is next for our favorite characters.

I'm in that exact place. I'm not so much thinking of what this weird couples afterlife (seriously, what's up with that?) is like for the characters of Lost, but I still feel its message echoing in my life.

For the past four years, I attended college in Fayetteville, Arkansas. I changed my major twice. I joined a fraternity. I joined a ministry. I left that ministry and joined another. And then I did that again. I worked at a summer camp. I've had a lot of money. I've been absolutely broke. I've eaten Ramen noodles. I've eaten spaghettios. I've eaten a huge, red steak hot off the grill. I've sat in the grass. I've sat in the rain. I've sat in the road. I've sat in my room all day. I've spent days doing absolutely nothing, and I've spent days with so much on my list to get done that I've gone right to sleep upon getting home out of sheer fatigue. I've broken hearts. I've had my heart broken, more than once. I've been depressed. I've been completely overcome with joy and God's goodness. I've had huge plans come and go. I've found myself clueless and completely out of control. I've been completely alone. I've found myself with more friends than I can count. I've found myself directionless, and I've found myself so clearly in the presence of Rightness.

Four years of my life. Wow. Thinking of all that has happened, everything I've experienced, it's hard to even consider moving on. But you know what? That's the next step. Sometimes in life, the next step is never easy. Sometimes the next step is simply to let go of where your heart is so firmly entrenched and allow God to bring about what's next. One chapter ends. Another one begins.

Not leaving.

Not forgetting.

Just moving on.

It's hard to even consider. Maybe hard isn't the right word. I think scary is better. I'll admit it. I'm completely afraid of what's next. Back in Fayetteville, there are dozens of friends. Some of them are Young Life leaders, some I've even trained and seen grow into incredible leaders. Some are roommates. Some are just people that have been significant in my life. It's the same with camp. There are so many connections there. How do I move on, and what am I moving on to?

On June 9th, I'll be going to Houston for an induction ceremony into Teach For America. To be honest, I didn't even think I'd get it, and after being on the waitlist for so long, I wasn't even sure if I wanted it anymore. But after praying about it and really thinking about my motivation for applying in the first place, I knew that this was the right decision. Still, this summer I'll spend a weekend in Houston, then in Mississippi for 5 weeks training (woof), and then I'll get a week off before having to return to Houston permanently. One week. One whole week. A week to find a place to live when I've never had to look for an apartment in my life. I don't even know where to start. I've never even lived in a big city before in my life. I feel completely in over my head. Yes, I know God will provide, but it is still completely stressful not knowing how I'll take care everything that comes with such a huge transition.

It's scary. I'm leaving my family and friends to do this job for at least the next two years in a city where I know no one. I'm sure I'll make new friends, but it's still scary realizing that the next step is finally here, that I have to say goodbye to what has been so prevalent in my life this last year. It's time to go and start life. I completely sympathize with the tangible fear and hesitance you see in Jack. Through his fear he manages to ask, "Where we going?" Again, his dad simply smiles before answering, "Let's go find out together." I love that.

I'm moving to Houston. I'm teaching high school science. I have to take a certification test to show I can teach it (ruh roh). I have to enroll in college courses during next year. I have to pay bills. I have to take care of myself. What in the world is all of this going to be like?

Well... Let's go find out. Yes, I'm scared, but I am also so unbelievably excited for what the future will bring. I know that this is right, and I know that sometimes the biggest steps we take require incredible leaps of faith. Peter had to take one huge step to get out of the boat. So this is me, taking one, massive step into the unknown. I'll be okay, I know that for sure. And I believe, I really do, that God has an incredible and amazing life for me, full of growth and happiness, even if I can't see how the next chapter of my life will play out. But that's just it. We are a culture that is hooked on the unknown. It's why Lost was such a hit. There were so many questions, so many times that I would sit back and just think, "Wow, how will this play out?" Had the producers provided a list of every question that would appear and its corresponding answer up front, I don't think anyone would have watched the show. It's like the greatest books that we read. From the first page, we can't help but be so attracted to the story. We don't dare skip to the end, because it is the journey that makes the experience worthwhile. In other words, I have no idea what my life will look like in a year, but I know that the journey will be like nothing I've ever before experienced. What will Houston be like? What will teaching be like? What will my life be like?

Let's go find out.