It's Been Two Long Years Now

Hey, remember that time when I graduated? The Class of 2011 has its turn this weekend. Endings abound on campus, and I am struggling to deal with them all. Most of the non-seniors have headed home already and I am approaching the end of my YACM year in mid-June. CCMers are going away, Julia leaves me Monday, and I have no idea what I am doing with my life for six weeks of the summer, when I need diversion and income. I have many of the same feelings I had two years ago at graduation, only heightened by greater uncertainty for the future -- something that gives me sympathy for my classmates who didn't have plans this time two years ago.

As I put together the worship aid for Grad Mass, I saw a song that shaped the way I look at endings. So I pulled up a reflection I wrote on it a few years ago and post it now, in honor of the Class of 2011, but really for everyone with endings. For students going home for the summer. For people who are watching friends leave. For myself, as much as anyone else.

There’s a song we sing in my church at school. It’s called “The Summons,” and I love the lyrics:

Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?

It continues in a true Summons, with Christ calling us as listeners to leave our comfort zone and follow Him in faith and service. To me it’s always been about getting out there and doing something. “Will you come and follow me?” seems like such an active calling. It made one of my friends spend his summer ministering at the Grand Canyon; my best friend agree to be vice-president of CCM. It called me out of a bad relationship and into the loving a loving Christian community. It's a beginnings song, a step out of your comfort zone song, a take-the-plunge song.

Applying to YouthWorks and spending my summer in Carthage was just such a plunge. I threw myself head-first into getting to know and love the people there. By the end of the summer, I was fully in love with Carthage. Also, by the time August hit, it still felt like the beginning. I was just starting to understand, just starting to hear God's messages.

And suddenly... it was at the end of the summer. It was time to go home.

At the last Mass at St. William of Vercelli, we sang “The Summons.” And I thought, “Really, God? This song? Right now? Why don't I get a song to send me home?”

But by the time I got to the last verse, my world gave a slight flip. Lord, Your summons echoes true when You but call my name; I will come and follow you and never be the same. What if it was a song to send me home? That would mean that going home was a calling... just as much as coming out had been.

That would mean it doesn't end here. It doesn't end today.

God loved me enough to call me out here. And He loves me enough to call me home.