memories

I can't believe it's already mid-April! With all the busyness in life, it's made the year go by fast!

In less than two weeks, Brian and I will be moving into our new place, and we still have halfway to go in packing everything up. As much as I am very excited to move into our new place, I do not enjoy packing. Well for one, allergies. And, of course, I'm not a fan of packing in general. It's too much work, not enough time, and I'm discovering bugs have made some of our boxes their home :(  

It wasn't until I came across my college-marked boxes that I had a difficult time sorting through. I hadn't opened them for almost two years. From endless pictures to notes my residents wrote on my corkboard to even little knick knacks I've collected on adventures with friends—the memories came flooding back to me. Every time I came across another keepsake, I paused during my sorting/packing process and proceeded to tell Brian the ENTIRE back story of the piece.

Sorting through my boxes, Brian took out this little bottle out and knew by my facial expression what it was and that it was a keeper. This little bottle contained dirt that I collected from the first time I went on a mission trip to Mozambique. The day before we left to go back home, a few of us decided to use these leftover mini bottles to collect the dirt from different parts of the orphanage: the school where we taught arts and crafts to the children in the community, in the refatorio where we shared our meals and stories with new friends, in the church where we witnessed the beauty of God's grace and love through the joyful cries of the congregation, and even right under the feet of the little children who blessed us more than we can imagine. Sigh. I've held on to this little thing for five years. It was more than just a bottle of dirt…it represented a turning point in my life.

In these boxes, each little piece had a story. And all these stories represent the person I am today. I was reminded that my college years weren't just about living independently from my parents or focusing on my major. It was about finding myself, who I am, who God created me to be. I was also reminded that I'm still on that journey. God is still doing work in my life. It didn't stop right after I graduated; He continues to move in my life in ways that are beyond my reach. In college, it was more visible because I was surrounded by a community of people who also witnessed God creating beauty in their brokenness. But now, I'm learning more about myself in a new light, in new environments, and in new relationships. And I constantly see God's hand in any situation that I'm in.

As much as I wanted to hold on to every single treasure, I had to let some of them go. But the memories, their stories, will still live on. They are a part of me. And I'll continue to create new ones each day as I continue on my journey.