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The time has come. The time for the teary-eyed farewells and the emotional so-longs. I knew this day would come. The way I pictured it coming was classic. I thought I’d say a good-bye here and a good-bye there; and the long faces would be inescapable. So far, the parting words I’ve offered have been scant. Maybe I’m trying to save them all for Saturday so that I can just get it over with all at once.

Graduation has been long awaited; and now that it’s here I am not as exuberant as I pictured myself being. I’m going to miss Messiah. There, I’ve said it. I’ll miss the sereneness of walks along the Breeches; and I’ll miss the lushness of the campus in the spring. And I could go on and on. These past four years have been edifying. As I leave this place, I know that I have been enriched and that the insights gained here would not have been gained had I gone elsewhere.

Thank you, Messiah. And thank you to my readers. It has been a privilege to share this last year here at Messiah with you; and I hope that my writing has been able to uplift you in some way. So I leave you with these words from the book of Ecclesiastes as I depart: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Ecc. 3:1 KJV).

As graduation draws nearer, I find myself examining the ways that I have changed since I first came to Messiah. Of course there are the obvious changes such as amassing a ton of knowledge (and stuff); the expansion of my social network of friends; my management of time and work; and the ideas that I hold about the world. Some of these changes were subtle, while others were quite explicit. But, change itself is a remarkable thing. The ability to change demonstrates resilience and adaptability. To not have experienced any change would have made my time at Messiah a vain endeavor. So to all my fellow soon-to-be graduates, I commend you on the changes you have made, and I wish you the best of success in all that you do!

In chapel yesterday, Chris Tomlin’s song “Indescribable” left me completely and utterly awed. For me, the powerful lyrics, which speak of God being nothing short of incomprehensible to the human mind, numbed me. I was gripped by the fact that God really is remarkable–and even that fails to justly describe how GREAT God truly is. Through my reflections, I acknowledged my limitations. I can never “know” God; and that’s okay. I am comforted that the God I serve is beyond my understanding. Like Tomlin, I too must testify that “You are amazing, God!”

Too often I find myself taking for granted the many blessings I have in my life. When I stop and seriously think about everything I have to be grateful for, I can only lower my head in shame for not being more thankful. Just waking up each day is a blessing. Having a warm meal to eat is a blessing. Being surrounded by persons who care about you is a blessing. I know you must be thinking, “Way to state the obvious!”; but, sometimes we need a gentle reminder of the things we do have instead of getting caught up in what we don’t have. I would like to leave you with the words of Job who, after losing it all, still found reason to praise God: “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21).

The last time you heard from me I was wincing at the thought of upcoming finals. Although one source of considerable pressure has been lifted, another source stills looms over my head–graduation. As I sift through my options, I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that, come what may, “all things work together for good to them that love God” (Rom. 8:28).

The time has finally come. Time to furiously write papers; forsake sleep; and regurgitate theories and concepts. Finals week has arrived. Finals week is greeted by me with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I reluctantly anticipate the intense pressure to perform and excel; and, on the other hand, I am encouraged because it appropriately cinches an oftentimes laborious semester. Either way you look at it, finals are a necessary component of academia. Hopefully, at the end of it, it may be said of me that I have “persevered and have endured hardships for [God’s] name, and have not grown weary” (Rev. 2:3).

This past Saturday found me meandering aimlessly (more often than not) along the grandiose streets of Washington, DC. Having only been to DC once before, I was understandably exuberant. Not only is DC an ideal place for those of us who are watching our pennies; but, in my opinion, DC provides the best of both worlds–city life at a slower pace. Among the museums of interest, the Holocaust Museum is a definite must. The popularity of this site was evident even before we set foot inside the museum, with lines that snaked its way along the outside of the building. Somewhere between crossing the grassy expanse of the National Mall and trying to find the nearest metro terminal, we got caught in a sudden downpour. Prior to this deluge, however, a peculiar incident was manifesting itself–we were caught in the middle of a protest (a peaceful one to be sure). My roommate and I were intrigued. After weaving our way through the masses, we made our way to the front of the crowd hoping to capture some footage of this memorable event. For this determined throng of people the heavy downpour was no deterrent, whose numbers exceeded 700, in my rough estimate. Never could I have suspected that I would witness a demonstration of this magnitude, in the nation’s capital no less. I wonder what DC will have in store for me the next time I visit.

This is a topic that I have been dodging for some time now. The reason why is quite simple. What has happened, I suspect, is that I have allowed myself to become lackadaisical–maybe even in denial. At any rate, I was forced to mull over these ideas in a most direct way–as I was having my senior portrait taken. I don’t know what it was. Perhaps it was donning the all-too-familiar cap and gown, or the prim and proper contortions, disguised as poses, that they required of us. Whatever it was, I was confronted by a reality that I had been skirting around for far too long. Hopefully, none of my lacklustre disposition seeped its way into any of my photos. Soon enough, the prints will arrive; and they will serve as a very real reminder of what is to come.

It’s Wednesday. Today is the day where you exhale slowly encouraged by the fact that the weekend is almost here. Go on–give that little exclamation of glee. “Hump Day”, as Wednesday is, maybe not so affectionately, referred to by many represents overcoming a barrier of sorts that is Monday and Tuesday. This idea actually draws from a chemical concept known as Activation Energy. It is that barrier or “hill” that must be overcome through the use of a catalyst so that products may be formed. This catalyst, which coaxes a reaction along, provides the much needed boost, this energy of activation, to propel us over the “hump” and into the downhill descent. Before I bore you miserably to death with talk of catalysts and chemical reactions, allow me to put things into perspective: you’re halfway there, those products (Friday and Saturday) are on the brink of being formed. Hang in there.

For Homecoming, the international student community warmly received international alumni at the highly anticipated Rafiki Open House. Amidst the hustle and bustle characteristic of this event, a selection of foods from a host of different countries was prepared and displayed to be feasted upon by our deserving alumni. My small contribution to the event was a dish that (next to peas ‘n’ rice) is commonplace at Bahamian meals. Interestingly, the name by which it is commonly called, Macaroni, is very similar to the mac & cheese familiar to most of us, with the exception that this version is made casserole-style. It was encouraging to see the huge turn-out of guests as well as the pleasure on people’s faces as they sampled this delicious fare. Moreover, I was especially comforted to know that long after we graduate, Messiah will still be a place where we can come back to our niche and feel right at “home”.