Gettin' Real

Today is another big "last" for me in the land of my job. I will spend today as my last alone day at work. When I come in on Monday, the new producer will begin her job, and I'll have two weeks to pass the baton and plant it as securely in her hands as I possibly can before I walk out for the last time.

{I am not sure when Lynne is formally announcing her, so I am keeping the name under my hat until she has that opportunity.}

Earlier this week, I cleared off my desk of all personal items. I carefully peeled the tape off the random notes Ryan wrote me over the last 2 1/2 years, and secured them to big pieces of paper, so I could safely transport them home. I took down all the pictures that chronicled our love story, from the first framed picture he ever gave me, to our "Fairy Tales Do Come True" wedding frame...and all the other favorites I'd propped up to inspire me. I took down my beloved metal perpetual calendar, my coffee signs, and the big framed picture, signed by all my Financial Aid co-workers. I packed up my purple Keurig and basket of K-cups, and all the other little things that made the U-shaped desk my home.

Empty.

My desk and my head. It turned out I needed all those things to foster creativity, and when they went into the box, so did my ability to think outside it.

I punched holes in the updated pages of the thorough producer manual Jamie wrote for me when I came in four years ago, and reorganized each section in preparation for training. I printed out planner pages from Pinterest and scribbled out an hour-by-hour training schedule to cover the next two weeks.

And I sat for days and wrote out a dozen or so pages of directions on how to handle every daily, weekly, monthly, and annual chore.

Our IT guy replaced my keys-worn-through-to-almost-a-hole keyboard so the new producer can actually know what letters she's striking with her fingers each day.

And this is it. The changing of the guards. The letting go of a job I've held dear to my soul for the last four years. I'll no longer wake up, roll over, and check my email at 4:30 in the morning to make sure we've not gotten any last minute cancellations from guests. I'll no longer screech to a halt on runs to take calls from guests who have questions. I won't  leave the lake to march in a parade or grip my shaking hands around the steering wheel of a full size van to navigate it through rush hour traffic.

This job has shaped and grown me in so many ways over the last four years. I wrote in my final e-newsletter that it feels a bit like college, and this is graduation. I've learned everything I could pack into my brain, and now it's time to pack up my room and go home to apply what I've learned to the next phase of my calling from the Lord.

It's gettin' real. My co-workers have walked in, stopped short, dropped their jaws and said, "Where's your stuff?" Some of them don't even want to talk about it yet, because we have two more weeks still.

But those two weeks will fly. I know they will. And while I grieve the letting go, I embrace the what's-to-come. I embrace the joy of pursuing new dreams with God and with Ryan.

I hope, hope, hope you'll stick with me and see what God has next!