Coming to the End

This is a slightly sappy senior post, and I’m ok with that. I finally got around to reading my ballots last night. Part of me couldn’t quite decide if I even wanted to, but I’m glad I did, because it gave me a chance to just think for a while.

Yes, I got some of the feedback that can be a little frustrating for graduating seniors – advice for “next year” or “in the future,” when I know that I’ll probably never have the opportunity to speak for a panel of judges ever again. I was frustrated by some of my ballots, but I was also humbled and encouraged by the number of judges who said “thank you, this is what I needed to hear.”

I’m glad that I read my ballots, but unless I go back and re-read them at some point, I’m not going to remember what they said. There are a lot of details from this tournament and my entire time competing that I’m pretty sure I won’t remember, but there are a lot of things that I will remember.

I might remember where some of my friends placed, but I know that I’ll remember my friend sitting with her arm around me as I waited to hear extemp semi breaks. I know I’ll remember the people who found me (which is sometimes no small feat at tournaments) to ask me how my rounds went because they cared how I was doing. I will remember those who rejoiced with those who broke and were there for those who didn’t.

I might not remember what anyone’s speeches were, but I know that I’ll remember the meaningful conversations, the laughter, the tears, and the words of encouragement.

I might not remember any of my debate partner’s jokes (because not all of them were as funny as he thought :)), but I will remember him making me laugh.

I might not remember any of the details of any of the world events that I watched with the same enthusiasm and intensity that some people watch football, but I will remember laughing, crying, and praying with my extemp girls. I will remember waking up in the morning to a conversation between the night owls in the extemp chat, with the occasional comment “Patience should share her thoughts on this when she gets up in the morning.” I will remember the running joke about how we were never really allowed to sit next to each other in the prep room (because we probably would have spent half our prep time taking selfies and goofing off….)

I probably won’t remember the bulk of my Middle East research, but I will remember the friend who challenged me, encouraged me, and kept me accountable in prayer for the people behind the events in the Middle East that we were both researching.

I know that I won’t remember my draw time, but I will always remember the extemp lady’s smile, and the fact that she got me a banana out of judge hospitality that one time that I missed lunch.

I know that most of the judges will not remember my name, my topic, or even if I was a good speaker. I’m pretty sure most of them will remember the experience of coming and judging. I won’t remember every impromptu or apologetics speech that I gave, but I will remember that every competition room that I went into presented a unique opportunity to communicate with a panel of judges that were put there by God for a reason – perhaps to hear something that I had to say, perhaps to hear something that someone else had to say.

I have been deeply blessed by the friends I met in NCFCA, and I thank God for each of them. On Saturday evening, I said goodbye to an incredible group of people. Some of them for the last time ever. Some of them are still around and I know that I’ll still see them quite a bit. Some of them I know I’ll see once in a while. But I know that it’s never going to be the same. I know that my time as a competitor is over, and with that, I’m stepping into a new stage of life. I’m going to miss my time in NCFCA, but I know that “there are far greater things ahead than any we leave behind.”