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  • Coming to Richmond is the second time I’ve moved away from home. The first time was last summer when I went on a missions project to Ocean City, Maryland. It was thrilling to have a change of scenery and living on the beach was icing on the cake. Part of my going was so I could search for my identity. I thought I could bathe in the ocean, dry by the setting sun, and become a new person. That’s how it works, right? If I want to change, I just pack up my car, drive to a place I’ve never been, and start making decisions the new me would make – don’t I? I drove back home last August and greeted my old life though. Routines picked back up and my dreams of being new vanished like a shooting star. I questioned if change had really even been there at all.

    Sophomore year held no remarkable treasures of discovery. No revelations or paradigm shifts swept away the veils that shielded my mind from encountering myself. Or rather, who I should be. I needed to see through who I was to the person I ought to be. I wanted to find myself in spite of myself. I couldn’t though. There are three characters in this impossible pursuit: the one searching, the one in the way, and the one to be found. They are all me.

    But I am not God. I am not one and three, but one only. I am looking, I am in the way, and I am who I’m looking for. I’m only one person and I am me – a singularity and not a multiplicity.

    Now, living in Richmond, something feels a lot like home. And I think that something is me. I don’t need to chase change anymore, I just need to be. God loves all of me – each and every one of me: the obedient me and the broken me. So if it’s good enough for God, it’s good enough.
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