525,600 Minutes

Paul Simon Quote du Jour:

“But I think it’s going to be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now—
The morning sun is shining like a red-rubber ball.”

-- from Red Rubber Ball

***

Exactly 365 days ago (or 525,600 minutes, if you care to measure a year), I loaded what few, precious belongings a 23 year-old can claim in this world into my trusty Chevy Cavalier, hugged my two best friends, and, between sobs, managed a hoarse “goodbye” to life as I knew it. Into the passenger seat I slumped, crying, grieving, and basically experiencing a good, old-fashioned conniption as my mother—God bless her—assumed the driver’s seat and accompanying responsibilities.

Like my pioneer ancestors before me, I, too, was embarking on an excursion across the scrubby Panhandle plains, but instead of heading towards the expanses of the West, my journey would take me eastward. On that fateful day, my unbearably hot, non-air-conditioned vehicle would lead me down from the Llano Estacado into the rolling, verdant cradle of the Central Texas Hill Country. . The majestic city of Austin, beguiling with her river, lakes, and off-beat, cosmopolitan lifestyle had beckoned, whispering in my ear in the way a mother might coax a slumbering child out of bed. The whisper blossomed into a cacophony of voices and I knew that I must obey these voices, lest I forever be haunted by a destiny unfulfilled.

The reason I was moving to Austin—the REAL reason—was to attend Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. A call to seminary was (and still is, to a certain extent) a bit of a shock to my family and friends, a life-choice out of left field and a true existential non-sequitur. Granted, I wasn’t moving to New York to join the Rockettes, or selling all my worldly possessions and following Phish around (even more impossible, since, alas! the group has disbanded), but for some, my desire to attend seminary seems bizarre. Hell, there are mornings when I wake up and ask God, “Seriously, what the fuck?” But God always whispers in my ear that everything is going to be alright. Surely I have not been led into Central Austin just to die...

One year. 365 days. 525,600 minutes. Is that all? Dear Jesus, how time has slipped through the proverbial hourglass! When I think back to my first days as a neophyte Austinite, I can do nothing else but smile at my naïveté and thank God for the grace that led me “safe thus far,” and the grace that will ultimately “lead me home.” Thank God for friends. For patience. For grace. For the encompassing womb that is the Crown & Anchor Pub.

And so, tonight, I offer Traveling Mercies to those who seek a new beginning. May the benevolent hand of the One who created us continue to hold and guide you...