One Red Balloon

Alumni reunion. It's a strange place to be, the campus where you lived, learned, and developed into a fuller representation of Christ on earth. Who are these strangers who call themselves fellow IMPACT students? And yet, I don't really find myself stuck in the past. Something about the bare walls and empty spaces reminds me that this is not home, or rather, not my home. Soon to be someone else's blessing and bursting ground, but not mine.

We've all had a lot of processing and mixed emotions. But in between conversations about the symbolism of the progression of conception, gestation, labor, and birth that so well illustrates IMPACT and beyond for me, what Leah's wedding is going to be like, and whether it's appropriate to sing that prayer changes so my D went to an A+ in chemistry... It's been great. Leah and I have been having a blast, all the way from the hippie side of Chattanooga to a midnight Walmart run that resulted in a tray of cinnamon rolls with the words "Hapy Ema" spelled out in M&Ms on top. There wasn't much space, and her birthday was almost over, so we had to cut a few corners, leave out a few words... Nothing much, y'know.

Of course, there are still two and a half days left, which is plenty of time for me to curl up in a fetal position and try to shut out the world, but that's not as much fun as it sounds. I do plan on sleeping a lot this weekend (sorry, dearly outgoing class of 2009!), so maybe it won't be too brutal.

Speaking of sleep... The sugar rush is wearing off and it's crashing time.

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