When school ends next week, I am going to cry.
This has been the hardest semester ever.
The eight classes were actually one of the easier parts.
A lot of things have changed. A lot of things.
The end of the semester is always one of my favorite sections of the school cycle, because it's when you sort through everything that's been floating around like so much plankton in a tub full of seawater, and find out what you've really learned.
But, just now, organizing the stacks of paper that have accumulated on my desk, I was sorting through not only exams, essays, handouts, transcriptions and quizzes, but sheet music, cards, notes from the New Members class, notes from Legal Writing III, handouts for Beginning Public Speaking, receipts, and miscellaneous pieces of the planning for Jordan.
It's going to be hard to leave all the professors and school friends who've been the stable, constant, predictable parts of a difficult season.
I am grateful for my family, grateful for all of the people who have told me recently that they are praying for me, and most of all grateful that when my heart is overwhelmed my God leads me to the Rock that is higher than I.
But when school ends next week, I am going to cry.