Thank God for All I've Missed

Randi and I went to see Brad Paisley in concert Friday, and Darius Rucker was the main opening act. A few days beforehand, we were talking about Darius’ song, This. If you don’t know the song, the idea is that a lot of things in life that we view as misses, disappointments or wrong turns end up being the biggest blessings.

Randi centered in on the line about “the college I wanted to go to until I got that letter,” sharing her experience getting wait-listed at her first choice school, which ultimately led her to Wingate (incidentally where we met and became friends), and how, in the end, that was really the right place for her.

My story is similar. I applied to just two schools—Wingate and Sewanee University in Tennessee. I was accepted by both, but while the admissions counselor at Sewanee had all but guaranteed me a hefty scholarship based on my grades and test scores, it was ultimately Wingate that came through for me, in the form of a three-quarter tuition academic scholarship. Sewanee, despite the grand promises, offered me nothing.

I liked both schools, but had been leaning toward Sewanee. Set on top of a mountain with grand old stone buildings, it was a beautiful campus. Since I visited the schools in November, I had missed the pleasure of seeing the campus trees at Wingate come alive in the spring, a sight that never ceased to amaze me in my four years there.

Looking back, it is clear that Wingate was truly the right fit for me. Sewanee was big on formality and tradition; those of you who know me well, know that’s not really me. And while it was beautiful, it was far removed from any form of civilization. Wingate offered the comfort of a small campus, where the faculty and student body are like a big family, but with the conveniences and opportunities of being located near Charlotte.

But there was more to it than that. Wingate had the right blend of people at the right time to help me become the person I am today. There is no choosing that. That’s more like an invisible hand, guiding you to where you need to be. I cannot begin to tell you how important the friendships I made there—with students and professors—still are to me today.

I feel unbelievably fortunate to have so many wonderful people in my life, and many of them came into my life through things I could have begrudged as missed opportunities.

A month or so before graduating from Wingate, I received a call from a good-sized daily newspaper in Virginia. I hadn’t even sent them my resume—one of their sister papers forwarded it on to them, because they had already filled their position but thought I was a strong candidate. It was a high compliment, but having already accepted a position in South Carolina, I declined the interview.

There have been times, especially when things started deteriorating at the S.C. paper, when I kicked myself for not at least finding out more. But then I think about the lifelong friends I made in my time there—my “sister circle”—and wonder where I’d be if they had never come into my life. I think of all the memories I have made with them, and can’t imagine that slate being wiped clean.

As I alluded to in my last post, the last year has been tough—not just for me, but for my friends and family. There have been some big bumps in the road, and I know there are more waiting ahead. I have faith, though, that in the end, this road will take me where I need to go, and because of all those “misses” and “wrong turns” that have come before, I have the greatest friends in the world walking this road with me, holding my hands and pulling me back up when I stumble on a pot hole.

Thank God for all I’ve missed, 'cause it led me here to this.

No words

I wrote a grand total of three posts on this blog last year. And they were all sad.

That was because 2010 was kind of a sad year...which is why I didn't post much. A lot of what happened last year, I just didn't feel like talking about and rehashing. Or I couldn't talk about in such a public forum. Or I didn't have the right words to really talk about how I was feeling.

It is a weird thing to be a writer and not have words. I don't mean a temporary case of writer's block, or just struggling to find the perfect word or phrase to suit a particular moment or mood. I mean when you just can find the words at all--when you don't even know where to start.

Words help me frame my world. Sometimes I feel like my brain is going 90 mph, turning over too many ideas and emotions at once--trying to understand where I am in life, my aspirations, what's wrong with the world, how to solve a problem at work. Big, "in the grand scheme of things" ideas and little, "what's for dinner" thoughts that come and go.

When it all gets to0 much and something has to give, it generally escapes in the form of writing. Putting pen to paper, so to speak, helps me formalize my thoughts. It is purposeful and structured (at least compared to the 90 mph spinning of my brain), and it helps me sort things out in a different way.

Last year was different. The things I dealt with were so deeply personal that I didn't feel comfortable writing about them here, and even if I had, I just didn't know where to start.

So I just didn't write. And all the words I couldn't figure out how to put on paper flew around inside my head, bumping into each other and making things all together too crowded, and nothing got any clearer. There are still a lot of them flying around up there, bumping around and clouding things up, but the forecast seems to be improving lately.

I'll admit, there is still one big issue from last year that is hanging around, undealt with. The elephant in the room--or in this case, the elephant in my brain. It's an issue where I'm powerless and that is a hard thing to accept. I've talked at length to good friends about it, yet I haven't really talked about it to the one person I should be addressing. I can't find the words.

As I said earlier...it's a weird thing to be a writer and not have words.