It happens every time without fail. A clenching of the stomach. The beat of my heart picking up speed. A lump in my throat that scratches and tastes like tears. My lips trembling to say words I hate saying.
It happens when I let go of dreams I thought were real. When friends leave – whether for a season or for life. I feel this way every time I leave my grandparents. These are the sensations that roll over me when life changes direction and I leave things behind.
It’s where I’m at now.
This week, I turned in my resignation to an organization I’ve worked in for 14 years. While all of the above emotions have rolled over me during the decision-making process, there’s no denying the peace I have. There is already a weight lifted off my shoulders.
I’ve been wrestling with this decision for a while now. And I know the reality of this decision will set in when I walk out the doors in a couple of weeks. Unstructured days lay before me. A wide field of opportunity and unknown plans sit in the hand of God, each step revealed with prayer and faith.
To be honest, I’m terrified. It’s hard to let go of fear that tells you that safety and security are everything. The lies that whisper, “Comfort is key. Comfort is necessary.” It’s difficult to leave people I care about deeply and memories that are wrapped in rooms and brick buildings.
I’m also exhilarated. There’s a part of me that wants to see what I’m really capable of, who God has made me to be and how that expresses itself in new circumstances.
I know there are tough times coming. Times of not knowing. Seasons that will require faith and endurance. Thankfully, those are lessons I’ve tasted in my 32 years of living. I’m willing to meet those friends again on this journey, hopefully with a bit more wisdom than I did in the past.
I know there are good times coming. Because He is a good Father who desires to give His children good things – things I’ll be able to wrap my hands around and hold close with thanksgiving and awe at His goodness. Many of them will be gifts not seen with the eyes, but hidden gifts He chooses to work in the inner part of my soul.
But it’s so hard to say goodbye.
With all of that said, I have new adventures that require new things. Like a new, grown up website and a new grown up blog. And while I’ve posted (at best) infrequently hear at KintzFactor, the last 6 years I’ve shared my thoughts here have been intense and wonderful. This blog represents a lot of change and challenge. It holds some of my deepest struggles and sweetest joys. I tuck this blog away with many of my journals and other writings with a sigh, a smile and resolution to walk into something new.
It’s time to say goodbye.