Ruth With InterVarsity Link: Firsts and Lasts

Inevitably, when you are leaving there are lots of lasts. Last fourth of July celebration, last birthday in America for awhile, last trip to the OBX, last time seeing this friend or that friend, and finally last Sunday at church, last dinner with family, then last moments at the airport, last hug goodbye, and last glances.

Then, when you are arriving there are lots of firsts. First meeting a bazillion and one new people, first time riding on the train, first time riding on the metro, first time riding on the bus, first shopping in a Swiss supermarket, first French class, first impressions, first language success, first cave-in to familiar (like Burger King), first night alone, first attempt at cooking with an unfamiliar oven and kitchen, first time exploring Lausanne, first church service and SO many more firsts. In fact, you are quite inundated with NEW and DIFFERENT.

I was riding the metro this week and had a little realization. This is not the first time I have ridden the Lausanne metro, line 2, in the direction of Croisettes. Nor will this be the last time that I ride the metro in Lausanne. It is, in fact, somewhere in the middle! Not a first, not a last, but a happy, regular, routine-like middle! Then I started to think about how many other things in Lausanne I have done more than once in my almost 4 weeks of living here. I have gone to class more than once, I have gone to the grocery store, I have ridden the train, the bus, the metro; I have gone to church, I have made food, I have gone to meetings, I have seen this person before and will most likely see them again.

There is something incredibly soothing about middles. They may not be incredibly significant in the every hum-drum run of life, but they are part of adjusting from firsts to lasts. They help me feel more comfortable, familiar, and confident. It's nice not to have to spend a significant amount of time or emotional energy on them, and in some ways it is nice to feel a little more settled, like letting out a big breath I didn't even realize I was holding and begin to breathe normally again.