What the Years Know

Good morning, Monday.

This time, here and now, with coffee and silence and without the orders of the day, is good medicine for clearing the mind and refocusing the heart.

I am still thinking about the weekend. It will be said cryptically. But when some of that 'unbelievably painful' found its way again into the last few days, I decided that this is why God gives us time second by second, minute by minute, in order to go on and breathe in and out and make it through. For all of our wonderings about the reasons for time feeling and being what it is, the brilliant genius of God is that He lets us see it in small slips.

And then there are the years.

'The years know much which the days never know.'

One of my closest friends brought up that Emerson quote this weekend. She was talking about space to see life the way it is happening. It was the 5 year reunion for my class at Bethel. And I went back.

I didn't really think about going back until a few weeks before Homecoming. But there I was, suddenly at a dinner and a brunch and a game and another dinner. All things planned by friends, except for one dinner. With all kinds of different people I knew and loved at Bethel. The kind of people that know you and make you breathe easy. What you get when you've known each other for long stretches of time.

At reunions, at the big events, I always imagine people saying ridiculous things and preening about 'not very much, in the end' in front of secretly unimpressed people. Doesn't that typify the classic look of a reunion? An exorbitant amount of swagger. That, or a great affection for jokes that used to be funny, but no longer are. But I didn't see this.

Instead, I saw again how many exceptional people I knew at Bethel. And I was struck by the fact that, in between then and now, people learned the job. And a lot of other things besides a job too. They stand somewhere new when they talk about life. In college, I saw them work hard to know themselves and do something about it. And then we all went away from Bethel and the world wasn't very rosy sometimes. And if you cared, you did learn your craft. And the point is, you're still learning your craft.

That 'in process' way of doing your life was evident to me. Not just in conversations about teaching, which I have all of the time with other teachers. But also in the field of public accounts and neonatal nursing and figuring out seminary. (Hello, school that specializes in education, business, nursing, and a Baptist tradition.) You can see a lot of things in people who give space to their words. I saw this. It made them good to be around.

Five years does and does not change a lot. (Relieving.) You are still the you you've always been, deep down somewhere where it counts. But you aren't the same. That's good too. And last I checked, an average of 1 in 8 people aren't often walking around any college campus with Baby Bjorns strapped to them. 5 year reunions bring babies to campus too.

A word about Facebook. Ever this, ever eye opening, since it so quickly connects people to other stories. Two hours before I saw someone again at Bethel, I had already learned that she had, just that day, bought a house. There she was on facebook, signing the papers. There I was at the reunion, casually congratulating her. Ew.

We seem to be past the time when Facebook makes you feel like a total stalker for knowing things about people. If they come up on the newsfeed, it's like reading about them in the paper. (Writing that is alarming. Sociologists are going to have a lot to say about Facebook a few decades down the road.) But this is true. If people are putting up ultrasound pictures (yes, pictures of the inside of their bodies) on Facebook, it's best to admit you know these things outright. It's weirder if you don't.

I digress.

All in all, I sat at the game on Saturday and felt once again, a strong love for Bethel. For what was familiar and timeless right in front of me. For what it put inside of my mind and heart, and that I ever got to go there at all. It's worth the monthly payments for years and years (and years). It is.

Last of all, talk about a trippy view of time. I am about to hug someone again I met back in 2003, and I hear 'Miss Christians!' Shouted from the bleachers. And I look, and it's a student. Not a current one. A student I had for two years, already two years ago at St. Croix Prep. He's there with people who have older brothers playing on the field. This wasn't strange because this student in particular is pretty classy about moments like this. It was no issue to talk to him (and the parents sitting nearby). But I was pretty shocked.

Teachers see their students EVERYWHERE.   Even at college reunions.

And this served to remind me that I'm not at Bethel like I was before. I've been out in the world too. Learning the craft. Teaching a bunch of people about things that happened in the world a long time ago. Taking them to D.C.. Holding the line, being ridiculous with them, grading a million papers.

This is the life I have in front of me. And I really do like it too.