Less than two months to graduate. I've been in a bit of a writer's block because graduation is all I can think about, and to be honest the past few weeks have been a blur of non-stop going here and there. When I finally catch my breath, I'm behind on school work and I feel as if I've severely neglected my fluffy white dog (who is no less neglected than royalty, so no worries). But I finally sat down to write and to let my brain wander and ramble. I remember writing a letter to college graduates, including myself, back in August at the start of the school year. In that short letter, I had said,

"I'm merely peering over the first page of a thick bound book that has written down every conversation with a professor, every exhausted look, every early morning work-out, every quick-witted and otherwise un-Christlike remark, every Chick-Fil-A stop, every question and rejection, every defiant attitude and stubborn attitude, every holiday and every joyful moment."

And now I stand nearly on the other side of it all. Humbled by Christ in more ways than I can count, and not in the ways I had expected or even wanted. I stand, still peering over the thick bound book, wondering about all that it contains. Because in this metaphorical yet real book that The Keeper holds, is every conversation with my professors, every weary eyed morning workout, sassy and sometimes bitter remarks, the number of Chick-Fil-A chicken nuggets and sausage biscuits I've consumed (and the weight gained as consequence), the classes I've had to drag myself to and to where my mind wandered if the lecture was too mundane, the secrets exchanged between close friends. Everything is recorded. Everything. He knows how many tears I've cried and sleepless nights I tossed and turned. He knows the decisions I have made, and knows the ones I've yet to face. He has smiled alongside me as I have laughed, and has rejoiced over me with abundant, unexpected blessings. He has disciplined me with love, even as I shook my fist in anger and cried out that I don't understand. And so, I'm trying to flip back through the pages to relive some stories and maybe tear out others that I'd rather forget, though I know I couldn't if I tried. And news flash: I still don't hold the book. What I concluded in August is still true:

I'm standing on my very tip toes trying to see all that Jesus has written, and I know He smiles and says, "You'll get there."

I'm at a place now that so many college seniors are -- ready to take final exams and put on that graduation robe, but desperately still clinging onto late night McDonald's runs and carefree weekends that are spent with friends or that have been filled with football and basketball games. Running around town and complaining about professors. Trying to make mental snapshots of memories that weren't caught on camera -- memories we know we'll tell our kids about one day. We were told these college days would come and go in the blink of an eye. Every day I knew it was true, and here I am still wondering how it all went by so fast. With fifty something days left, every day seems bittersweet and I find myself clinging to those delta sunsets tighter and tighter. I'm eager for what post-graduation brings: a wedding, summer days, frequent ice cream trips, moving to a new city, making new friends, starting grad school. But with less than two months to d-day, I'm reminding myself to breathe. To make to-do lists and then throw them, without caution, to the wind. So I'm here to remind you, almost college grad, hug your dog. Hug your mom and hug your dad. Thank them. Thank that professor who has helped you so many times and has never complained. Go out with friends and do stupid things like eating four Wendy's 4 for $4 combo meals. Finish that term paper. Nail that last presentation. Work hard. Laugh often. Write it all down. Sign a yearbook if you want. Don't let these fleeting days pass without looking up at the stars and thanking the One who hung them there. Here's to you, and to these last few weeks we'll share as undergrad students. Make 'em count.