The Hardest Goodbyes that Aren't.

Goodbyes are hard.

This has been the week of goodbyes and see ya laters. But mostly goodbyes. It has been one week since I moved out of my small, dingy apartment in Streeterville, Chicago, and moved back onto Moody campus with some wonderfully generous friends of mine. These past seven days I have been having coffee, lunches, dinner, breakfasts, walks, shopping trips, and classes with some of my favorite people God placed on this earth. They're people who have inspired me and taught me and loved me and led me and followed me and helped me and comforted me. They have been my mentors and professors and cheer leaders and nine northers and study buddies and counselors. And, for all those reasons, goodbyes are hard.

One thing I'm realizing today is that some are harder than others. I know, I know … that's so not kosher. But if I'm honest its true, and if you are you'll agree. There are some goodbyes that I can say, "Hey, its been fun, you know? I'm going to miss you, but there's always facebook." Then you can walk away somewhat easily. There might be a sigh of relinquishing what was, but all in all you can walk away unscathed.

But … then there are some, where this is the farthest thing from the case. There are some friends that, when it comes to say goodbye, you might as well say, "Here, you might as well chop off my arm and keep it because you're ripping at my heart and at least you can see arms bleed." When you part ways with this kind of friend, you're saying goodbye to something that was and something that has become a part of yourself. To leave is to leave a piece of you behind and to go is to take something of theirs. There's physical pain involved, an internal rending that leads to heavy sighs, watery eyes, pounding hearts, and headaches that last a few days. Somewhere along the lines, your paths crossed. It started as a roommate freshmen year, the girl behind you in class, the professor who talked too fast, the guy who took you on your first date, the girl across the hall, and that one in your small group. And then something changed. Slowly, progressively, increasingly they became part of the fabric of your life. They were so immeshed in your life that, at times, it is hard to tell where their thoughts end and your statements begin; where their pain is their pain and your joy is your joy because, lets be honest, we pass all of the above around. All goodbyes are hard, but for this kind, there are no words.

Here's what I'm thinking it is … they remind you of who you are. They give affirmation to the reality that we really are the Church. A dear friend of mine, as we were saying a particularly hard goodbye, told me that I gave him confidence that the Church and Jesus Christ and all that comes with it is real. And that's how I feel about him as well, along with a few others. They remind me that its all true! I affirm the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting with them in mind. When I hug them goodbye and it hurts I'm reminded that in some wondrously mysterious way we are the physical Body of Christ in the world. When I cry because of their pain or they smile because of my joy I am once again aware that we are united permanently, eternally and intimately. I know that as I follow our Lord into this unknown adventure, as I care for my soul as I study in Boston, I care for them because we are one body. I know also that as they work with integrity and in union with His Spirit in Chicago, as they go about their days with their eyes fixed on Him, they feed me as well because we are one body.

Yes, these are the goodbyes that are hardest.

But I guess, because of who we are … or excuse me, Whose we are … it's only goodbye for now.