Passing the Torch/Hope of Tomorrow

Today marks the last week of my tenure at Gateway, and I awoke this morning with feelings of apprehension and of nostalgia. I laid quietly on my bed, studying my room, full of boxes, clothes, shoes. I looked at my couch that I have had for three years and began to reminisce of all the moments that have taken place on it. No, not what you are thinking!!! Moments of happiness and plopping down on it after a day of recording, or barely making it to my room to fall on my couch and cry my little heart out. Sitting on it with like 10 girls and laughing hysterically into all hours of the night, and praying at it with one particular friend when searching for God's will in our lives.

I gazed around my room with blurred vision caused my pent up tears of what are soon to be good memories. I lived in that particular room for three long years of my life at Gateway and it holds such a special place. Never again will I hear my friends screaming down the hall at 3am, nor will random people come and knock incessantly on my door to tell me something, never will I be able to go out of room and walk next door and be with all the people I cherish so much. These hallways that I dreaded walking down now seem so wonderful, and I walk down it with my mind full of memories that took place. Every classroom, the library, the chapel, things I took for granted, have become deep for me. I look at all these people I have been going to school with, and I realize that I will not be sitting eating lunch, being obnoxious anymore. We are all going to be separated, moving on, and my heart is saddened.

If I leave anything, I want to leave the hope of tomorrow. Sometimes during my tenure here, there were times when I would literally have to hope that tomorrow would be better and that all my problems of today would soon pass. I remember countless times that I would call my mom and cry and be so frustrated and she would say, "Wait til tomorrow, it will be better tomorrow." And for some crazy reason, it usually was! There were so many times that I wanted to leave this place, was upset at people, or was disinterested. But now, now that I am for real leaving, I look back at my calamity and shake my head. God has taken me so much farther than I ever thought I could go, He has called me into ministry that no one even knows of yet, and He has blessed me tremendously in ways that I could never truly explain. The hope of tomorrow rests in His hands.

As I leave, I want to pass on my mantle or the torch of my generation. I want to leave behind the strength that only came from trials along this journey. I leave behind the talent that was derived from true humility. I pass the torch of anointing to someone who has learned the lessons of being a true, devout singer and realizing its not about us, but about Him. I give my ability to be so confident in all that I do, to the point that I have managed to convince most people that I have limited insecurities. (ha) I pass the torch of walking into a room and somehow gaining the attention of almost every single person to someone who feels inadequate in who they are as a person. From being here at Gateway, I have learned my strengths, weaknesses, insecurities, dependence, spiritual lessons, what I want in someone as a soul mate, discovered my true talents, was taught more than I could ever imagine about music, and how to love people unconditionally. I pass this legacy of my life, to whomever wants it. I do not promise that the road will be easy, but I do promise that you will not be alone. We always have the hope of tomorrow and the mantle of those who have gone before us.