Summer time. A time to get tan, have fun in the sun and not worry about the adult responsibilities we have. Well, at least that’s what we see on people’s social media around us. Maybe even our own. When I think of summer, if I can be honest, I think of being stressed, being tired, and really ready for the season to be over.
If you don’t know me (which I’m sure most of you don’t know this about me), but I moved to Orlando 7 years ago in late June. I left a lot back in Coral Springs Florida. I was raised there and that is where my family still currently resides. Shortly after moving to Orlando, I actually got news my sister was pregnant and moving back home (which she now has 3 beautiful girls). So summer time for me has a lot of different emotions. But, as I mentioned earlier, summer time always brings me stress.
You want to know why? Because every July I have to pack up my life in boxes and move in to a new apartment or home that will be filled with another set of roommates and friends to make memories with. You read that right, with the exception of 1 out of the 7 years I have resided in Orlando, I have moved into different homes. Luckily, I have lived with the same roommate for about 3 years of my time here. Unfortunately, the other years I wasn’t so lucky.
Every new home came with new roommates and new boxes to unpack. New adjusting to the ways other people live; if they use the dishwasher or not, how they like to set up the living room, how much food do we share and how close will we be at the end of it all. Just the thought of doing that 4 to 5 times just gives me stress. This summer is no exception to this process.
At first, when I found out I had to move again, I was stressed to the max, and to be honest, I was angry at every person around me; roommates or not. But on the other end, I laughed a lot. Like a lot a lot. I laughed at God a lot. I also cried out to God a lot and yelled at Him a lot. I didn’t understand what lesson I wasn’t understanding and why the process of finding new roommates and packing up my memories into boxes needed to happen for the 100th time. But one night, or maybe it was daytime, my thought process changed and God spoke to me.
As I looked at the pictures that actually still lay in a box in my closet, I was reminded that these moments and homes are temporary. This is not my final destination. God’s plan isn’t over yet. Every year, I don’t hang up my pictures on my walls and don’t decorate my room because I always go in with the same mindset. This home will not be my forever home. These moments with these specific friends and roommates won’t last forever. In that moment it hit me, the plan that God has for me is just like the different homes I have lived in and just like the seasons we go through.
We miss opportunities because we are too scared and don’t want rejection to take place. We don’t talk to a student or go up to the guy or girl we have an interest in because of the thought of what happens if they say no. We miss moments of laughter because we are too busy complaining about what is wrong with the situation that is happening around us. But what if we lived in the moment we are in? What if we put down our cell phones and the fake social media posts and picked up real relationships where we talk to people in person. It’s time we stop worrying about our final destination and start caring about the current place we are in.
So if you are in any current position like me, ask the girl or guy out. Go up to the student that everyone considers trouble and talk to them like a human being. Hang up the pictures on your wall and declare you are in the best season of your life. And please, put down your cell phone and start valuing the people you have around you. Because maybe just maybe, next year the move you have to make, might be your final destination.