On Monday, August 11th, I am moving to Lousiville, KY, to begin at Southern Seminary. Here are my emotions.
Please play the video for some mood music (that is 100% free of screaming, and any words for that matter)
It is just past midnight as I am beginning to write this. On Monday, around 40 hours from right now, I
will be on the road to Louisville to get a job lined up, and to stay with a
couple friends (the only people I know in the city) until I move into my dorm
on Friday. I will be in my Intro to the
New Testament class promptly at 8:30 AM the following morning in Norton Hall,
Room 195. But, now, I sit after saying
goodbye to a handful of friends I won’t see at church tomorrow morning and
after reading the couple dozen notes that were written for me at a going away party. Perhaps the definition for what I am feeling
can be called “pre-nostalgia.” I can’t
be homesick since I haven’t left yet; I am not reluctant since I do feel that I
am called to go to seminary to be trained for pastoral ministry. All I know is that the levies in my eyes are
not built high enough to keep back tears for these next forty hours of goodbyes
and packing.
It is not that I think that Louisville is going to be
horrible. It is just that I have never
loved a place like I have Columbus. Six
years, I’ve spent here. Twenty-five
percent of my life and all of my adulthood. It is where the Lord laid claim on
me and I on Him. It is where I matured,
where I was nurtured by the love of Christ and His saints; where I learned to
live and love like Him. It’s was here
that I actually became man enough to ask a girl out on a date. Above all, it’s
where I came to grips with the fact that the boy/man I see day after day in the
mirror was no longer on his own, but a blood-bought son of God.
It is natural that my heart of hearts does not want to leave
this place. It was hard enough over the
past few years to see my loved ones move on, but to be the one that is moving,
moving away from everyone at once—I don’t know what I will feel as I drive down
I-71 South past OSU, Downtown, and my church home of four years. I know I need to go, I want to go, but it is
a pain when I feel like I am leaving so much behind.
But here is why this is going to be so gut-wrenching—I actually
have something real, true, and lovely that I am leaving behind. People that have loved me far more than I
deserved and that I have loved far less than they deserve, a church that has
guided me and encouraged me and found a place for me to serve the Body, college
ministry that poured so much into me as I was an infant in Christ—all of whom
loved me to the point where I could hear my call to shepherd Jesus’ people (in graceful
spite of all my failures, inadequacies, and stupidity).
To the one who is reading this and knows me at all, I love
you. You have probably played a larger
part in my life than you expect and I earnestly hope that adequately conveyed
my love for you. I probably could have
done a better job, and in a few specific cases I know for sure I could
have. Most of this past week has been me
trying to run around and see and hug as many of you as possible. I know I will miss a few of you and I wish
that I could go on a farewell tour to make sure that I saw you all one more
time, but, alas, I cannot and that fact pains my soul.
I don’t want to be like a naïve incoming college freshman
and think that I am going to be able to see everyone as often as I hope—it will
not be everyone and it will not be often by any means. But, I will keep in touch will as many of you
as I can (yet not try to live vicariously in Columbus) and by whatever means
you have at your disposal, keep an eye on me, send me letters and cookies, and
other fun stuff.
In all the Love that our Lord has blessed my heart to have,
Richard Patrick Leeman
