Never Say Never

As I sit on my couch listening to mediocre pop artists ring in the new year, I think about time. I'm sure I'm not the only one contemplating where it went or where it is going. It's that time of year, really. It seems to me that the last 17 years have gone terribly quickly, and that the next however many years I have will go at the same rate.

It's here. 2007. The year I graduate. The year I become an adult (according to the government). The year I move out.

I see Dick Clark, still recovering from his stroke, not able to follow along as the rest of the world counts down the New Year. I hear my grandma talk about my great aunt attacking her nursing home roommate with her walker. I see Meatloaf, way past his prime, still attempting to be a bat out of hell for an audience that is unable to dance or sing along to his lyrics.

So this is where I'm heading? Yeah, there's a lot to be enjoyed and experienced and despised and learned in between here and there. A LOT.

But I'm still kind of nostalgic about where I've been and mindful of where I'm going. It's become important to me to savor life now (and on until it ends): being able to hang out with my closest friends every Friday at Starbucks, making P-rom 07 plans, going to discipleship at my church, flirting using the magic that is facebook, hopefully performing on stage at NCCS again, watching my eagles play, anticipating and going to Costa Rica, talking waaay too late on Saturday nights/Sunday mornings... all these things are going to stop happening some day. I realize this. We're going to grow up, get married, have kids, have grandkids, and new things will become important - so much so that they replace the old things.

So now, I'm going to enjoy it for all it's worth. All of it. Until I die.

Or come up with a better game plan.