On Silver Linings

I cruised south on Highway 50 early Sunday morning at 2:21. As I passed Sturdi-Bilt, where I spent a few years hanging garage doors after school, the song started.

I’ve got my memories

Always inside of me

But I can’t go back

Back to how it was

This is Home by Switchfoot. It has long been the song I turn on the last few minutes when I am coming home from an out of state trip. It is a beautiful yet simple song that has always hit me hard. It brings back warm feelings of nostalgia and belonging. I love Kansas, and I love the way this song reminds me of what I love about Kansas and people here.

But this time it was different.

As I neared the turn onto South Dean Road—MY road—the first chorus of the song exploded into a triumphant and resolute statement.

This is home

Now I’m finally where I belong

No. Just no.

The tears began streaming down my face. This was not the first time I had teared up listening to this song as I came home.

But this time it was different.

This time the tears flowed not because of my love for the prairie and the memories the prairie holds—no this time it was because home didn’t feel like home.

This time Kansas was not where I belonged.

For those of you who were not aware, I have been at Faith Builders for most of the last 7 months. I am enrolled in their two year Teacher Apprentice Program.

Due to the increasing danger of Covid-19, we were sent home this past weekend due to government recommendations and regulations. The administration would love to get us back to school as quickly as possible, but obviously with the constantly changing circumstances, nothing is certain.

(Let me insert here that none of the frustration in this post is directed towards the administration at Faith Builders. They handled the situation incredibly well and did the best they could under the circumstances. It is also not directed towards the Pennsylvania rulings on schools. I completely understand the precautions they are being forced to take)

I belong at Faith Builders. That is what I keep telling myself over and over again. That is where I should be. I love Kansas, and I miss it, but this place isn’t home right now. Home in this case is more than what address is on your drivers license. Home, for me, is where I feel I should be, and where I belong. Faith Builders is that place right now.

Over Winter Break/Term I had a thoroughly enjoyable 2 months back home. It felt right. It was delightful to reconnect with my home community, friends, and church. It was home.

This is different.

I want to get excited about Kansas—the good things about coming back. It just seems really hard to do that at this point. I’m looking forward to chilling at home with Mom while I do homework and discussing her feelings about Tom Brady joining the Buccaneers. I’m looking forward to seeing Jared randomly get up from the couch to go plug his phone into the living room speakers so he can play some choral performance he just found on YouTube. I’m looking forward to laughing around the supper table with my family again. These are all good things— very good things.

I just wish I cared more.

Let’s talk about silver linings.

silver lining | noun

a sign of hope in an unfortunate or gloomy situation; a bright prospect:

Once again.

No. Just no.

I am well aware of what the Bible has to say about rejoicing in suffering and giving thanks to God in everything. I try. I really do. Multiple people I have talked to over the past 48 hours could tell you that I have mentioned how things could be worse, and talked about some good things that could come from these weeks off campus.

Folks. It didn’t really seem to help. I’m sorry to inform you that I am still not very excited about doing the next few weeks of school online and interacting with my friends through a screen.

I felt and still do feel especially awful for the 2nd year students who were looking forward to their last months at Faith Builders. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end for them.

I say all this realizing that me and my school friends lives being altered seems to be pretty low on the scale of things that matter in relation to this pandemic. There are people losing their jobs and struggling to provide for their families through all of this, and I'm over here slapping out an emotional blog post where I am really going through it because I have to do a few weeks of school at home by myself. I do realize this and am very thankful that the pandemic has not impacted me in more serious ways.

At the same time, this still hurts. It still frustrates me. I think we can acknowledge these "smaller" things in life that hurt us, and still admit and realize that we are still very blessed. But like I said these silver linings don't really do that much for me in the moment. In fact, they are incredibly overrated. Get out of here with that.

What I’ve discovered is that maybe silver linings take time, at least for some people. At least for me. Some people seem to have the incredible ability to keep positive about things no matter what kind of gut punches they receive from life. To be brutally honest, these people almost make me uncomfortable. I just want to yell at them sometimes as they began to enumerate the blessings they still have, “NO YOUR LIFE IS TRASHED RIGHT NOW! THIS IS NOT GOOD! AT ALL! YOU DON’T HAVE TO PRETEND THIS IS OKAY!” I’m never quite sure whether these people actually feel the way they talk or if they are putting on a facade. I’d like to think they aren’t, and that they have just learned a radical perspective on life that seems far out of reach for me at the moment.

Silver linings have always showed up for me weeks, if not months after difficult and painful things. I guess for me things just take time. I know God is often working in circumstances in ways we can't see. I know this. But it does not seem to help my current outlook on life very much. It is tough for me to see much of the good in difficult things in the moment.

Maybe that's ok.

I'd like to think that maybe God is ok with us being frustrated and possibly even angry in the moment. Maybe He is more than willing to give us the space and time to find and experience healing, and to let that "silver lining" become more clear.

So yes, these next few weeks will be challenging to say the least, but I do take some comfort in the fact that I will be able to see God working in my life as I look back on these unfortunate circumstances.

Though I don't care about that silver lining very much at all right now, I do know it exists and that I will eventually grow to appreciate it.

I'd like to think that's enough.