So it turns out I’m the sort of person who needs space to write: mental and emotional space, plus the square-footage kind. Between my fellow Owenses, my dorm family, and my students, I am rich in a good many things, but space isn’t one of them.
But we shall soldier on in the name of I-am-missing-you-all.
Guys. Our dorm boys move out in less than a week. They’ve gone and grown up on us in this blink of two years, and now they’re off to the junior/senior dorms across campus. They’re a gutsy, beautiful, lively bunch of human beings, and I’m hoping big things for them, y’know? That God will wrestle their hearts to the floor as many times as it takes till they’re His, and that all that wildness and brilliance will be laser-aimed on the singular ambition of magnifying Jesus in every tribe and people.
I’ve already cried once, and it’s possible I’m watering up again as I type this. I’ll be fine, but you know. Maybe pray for me a little.
In other news, Zachary had his eighth grade celebration last week, and when did he develop this here Smirk of Patient Amusement? Well actually, I shall tell you when: back at about age two; but now that he is tall, this look seems way too wily for its own good.
PS He borrowed the coat, tie, pants, shirt, possibly socks and shoes, and he stole the flower, but I’m nearly sure the underwear is his.
PPS Up next: HIGH SCHOOL. I can’t even.
In more other news, Mark and Sheri, our fearless Directors for Kenya Kids Can, are on home assignment for five months, and so we are The People In Charge. This development has taught me a number of things. Mainly: Mark is magical. He teaches advanced math courses and heads up committees and tutors students into the waning evening hours, which is like 150% of a job, and in the middle of all that he keeps this sixteen-thousand-student-strong lunch&computer program running with nary a hitch. And did I mention he has seven kids?
So exit Mark, enter us, plus a couple Unanticipated Happenings, and let’s just say things haven’t been boring. Still, when we get to chat with Kenyan teachers on exam day (and they’re not one bit panicked, because their kids are READY), or read impeccably crafted student essays, or step into the kaleidoscope of a schoolyard teeming with kids, we’re like, Oh. Right. Worth it.
One last thing: if you’re in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, Mark is sharing about Kenya Kids Can at several gatherings this coming weekend. Go eat some pie and maybe fall a little bit more in love with our students. (And please, if you go, SOMEBODY heckle Mark about how he always gets us lost in the valley.) (Even though it was really just the one time.) (Because all the other times we were taking the longer way BY CHOICE. Clearly.)