What a great favor God does to those He places in the company of good people!
-St. Theresa of Avila
I hate goodbyes. That is all.
It seems like all I’ve done since the beginning of college is grow in love for people and places, only to say goodbye to them. Yes, I know that is how life works. I know this is only the beginning of a lifetime of an abundance of goodbyes. But it seems like the goodbyes keep getting harder and harder.
I’ve talked a lot about my experience in Rome and how it broke open my heart so that I may love more deeply and fully—this was great and all, until I realized the beautifully painful consequences that come with loving so deeply. My heart is inclined to fall in love (not in the romantic sense) with the people and places right in front of me. And then what happens? I have to say goodbye to all of them.
I saw a tweet recently that said, “The heart of a woman is tiring sometimes. We feel so deeply,” and I was like #same.
Starting January 8, 2018, and continuing into early January of 2019, I had four different permanent addresses. This meant spending four months in Rome and saying goodbye. Spending four months at home / travelling the Diocese of Sioux Falls and saying numerous goodbyes. Spending four months in Bismarck at UMary and saying goodbye. And finally, spending four months in Arizona and then saying goodbye. I remember sobbing the night before my friends left Rome last year and then crying on the plane when it was my turn to leave. I sobbed when I left UMary in December of 2018. I cried plenty of times during my last 48 hours in Tempe. Each of these residences had such beautiful people and places that I was privileged to encounter on a daily basis, and I fell in love with every piece of the experiences at hand, even if some parts weren’t the greatest. I blame my sentimental nature for part of that.
So, how do I view this from a Christian-Catholic perspective and find joy and gratitude in the midst of heartbreak? I think clinging to the three theological virtues and all those entail is the only way to continue on with life properly.
FAITH
I have to have faith that being brought to these places and meeting these people was good, even though it’s hard to see through the sorrow from being apart from them. I have to have faith that, every time I go to Mass or am praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament, I am united to my loved ones scattered all over. I have to have faith that, through it all, the Lord is holding my hand and desiring for me to trust and love Him even more.
HOPE
I have to have hope that I will see these people again—whether it be in this lifetime or the life after. I have to have hope that there is a purpose behind my burning desires to return to the places that I have fallen in love with (*cough* Rome). I have to have hope that there is a purpose for my heartbreak. I have to have hope for eternal life, which is the only home that will truly satisfy a restless heart.
CHARITY/LOVE
I can still grow in love and relationship with the people I am separated from; although, it will probably require greater efforts on our parts to be intentional. I can still have a healthy, detached love for the places I left behind (we’re still working on that Rome one). I can continue to grow in love with the Lord, recognizing that He is the only One who remains constant through the heartbreak of saying goodbye.
How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
–Winnie the Pooh
I am able to remain joyful and extremely grateful amidst the sorrow by viewing these experiences as astounding blessings. What a gift it is to have the ability to fall in love in a way that makes goodbyes so difficult. What beautiful opportunities I have been presented with to lean more so on the Lord, rather than solely on myself or the people He has placed in my life. What a great gift the Eucharist is when it comes to the unification of scattered loved ones. What an incredible fact it is that this earth, and all the amazing places within it, is not my permanent home.
Thank You, Jesus, for another wonderful semester full of graces and blessings. Cheers, AZ.
Bring it on, senior year (but maybe be gentle with my poor heart because I’m assuming this means a lot of sad goodbyes in the near future).