My desk is packed. My inbox is empty. My blackberry is no longer in use (this includes my cell phone and the ability to text), and I am sitting at my empty congressional desk at 2:05 p.m. with absolutely no responsibility.
I could get used to this.
Leaving Washington, D.C. after 4 and a half years is a lot like leaving college or even high school. Just like I did then, I really don't know what to expect now. Of course, now, at age 26 I have a devoted husband, a new job waiting for me, a new house and even a new blackberry, but the uncertaintly of "what will be" comes back strong, just as it did 4 and 8 years ago. I am so excited to be headed back to Texas, my home, my state, my resting place, but part of me is a little sad to be quitting my exciting life. And part of me wishes Jason and I were headed for one last adventure before we settle down.
But deep down I know that this move is what God wants for us, what he has planned for us, and since, after all these years, I still don't know exactly what he wants me to do, this move is a little scary.
In a few hours, I will walk out of the Carter office for the last time. I will say goodbye to all the co-workers I love like family, and will bid farewell to the halls of Congress. In a few hours, I will no longer be able to tell folks, "I work in Washington." In a few days, I will be in a U-haul with the three men in my life (Jason-husband, Jack-old cat, Jake-baby cat) and will be driving down 395 for the last time.
I will miss you Washington. All your prestige, all your power, even all your games. I have graduated from this time, this place between adolescence and adulthood and am headed for a new life in a familiar place.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jer 29:11)