Ramblings from a woman about to receive a master's degree

Four years.

You aren't that long of a time really. In retrospect, you are most of my marriage, most of my 20s so far. You are the time it has taken to find, in the words of Anne of Green Gables, bosom friends. You are the time it has taken to bring me to a place where I am confident in my pastoral ability and sure that God made me this way.

You are the length of time that it takes to live in 5 apartments and 2 houses in the summer.

You are the time it takes to get a masters degree and a somewhat extended clinical doctorate.

You have often been the thorn in my flesh, the papers I had to write, the tests I had to take, the meetings, the money...all of which I do not have to do again.

I have often wished you away. And now you are gone.

You have given me the ability to see and appreciate diversity. To love ethnic food. To be excited and interested in sustainable life. To change my heart, slowly but surely. To help me see the icky and gorgeous parts of myself. To see my husband for who he is...a rare jewel.

You are time when I have learned to love to create, to ponder, to think. To become more introverted and less out there. To love the color orange. To buy expensive Legos. To cook things from scratch and enjoy the beauty of truly good food.

Four years. You are the time it takes to get a Masters of Divinity from North Park Theological Seminary.

You are also the time it takes to say: I am ready to leave.

Now.

Four years. I am done. That, my friends, is wild.