already and not yet

Theology professors love that phrase.  I'm confused by it, mostly, but it fits quite well into my life right now. 

In case you didn't read the last two or three posts, here's a bit of news: I'm leaving Western Theological Seminary in four days to move back into my parents' house in Illinois. 

The reactions to this news have been interesting so far: they ranged from shock and sadness to "well, I saw that coming..." to a bit of excitement as they realized that my library job was up for grabs.  (Family and friends in Fulton at least feigned excitement at my moving back indefinitely, but check back here in a few weeks to see how that's going.)

The last sentence of my previous post is so true, however: the hardest part is the act of leaving.  Saying goodbye is never easy, no matter how short a time you've spent somewhere.  Despite only being here six months and not really developing a whole lot of deep relationships, I have cried more in the last two weeks than I have since leaving Knox. 

But because I have to explain this to my church on Sunday, here's a short (I hope) explanation of how this decision came to be:

If you've read any of my previous blog posts, you know that I never really felt at home here.  I didn't come in with any sort of theological background, and although I loved my classes, there was always a nagging feeling that I don't belong here.

That triggered a desire to transfer seminaries, and the most likely option was Chicago Theological Seminary.  I looked at MSW (Master of Social Work) programs in the same area, as I feel more and more drawn to that field.  Then, I realized how indecisive I am and unsure of which degree I really should get.  That lead me to apply for several different jobs, mostly in social work/non-profit organizations, to test the field and gain some experience.  Then came a slightly terrifying realization: I would either have to continue attending school and rack up some more student loans while waiting to hear from those organizations, or move back to Fulton--something I swore I would never do.  (That was my first mistake.)

In processing that realization, I also realized that I've been running away from a lot of things and people from my past (read: Fulton) that I really need to deal with in one way or another in order to move on with my life and cease living in this fear of inadequacy. 

It was then that I realized just how much growing up I need to do before I can even think about becoming a pastor.  That solidified my decision to leave, and I began sending emails.  I fully expect to be drawn back to seminary somewhere, someday.  This has been a great taste of what's ahead, thus the title of this post: already, and not yet. 

I have no idea how long I will be in Fulton.  I would love to stay long enough to put down some semblance of roots before I gallavant away again, but I don't know if that's part of God's plan for me.  I could be in any number of places three months from now.  That thought is exciting, exhausting, and terrifying all at once.

In other news: packing is easier than I thought, but my room looks like a tornado went through it.