I have more things to blog about, but I want to mark this one closer to the actual event. You see, last Saturday, my roommate moved out – my final roommate.
Yes, after all those years of panicking when I didn’t have a roommate or one was moving out, I am actually living on my own. It’s a weird feeling, and I don’t think it has really sunk in yet. How can it when I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to do much at home. The bunk beds are still up in both bedrooms, for example. And I don’t know what to do with a pantry all to myself, especially considering how little food I really buy. The entire place needs a good cleaning, but that sounds way too much like work.
But it is still a wonderful feeling. I can do all of those things, and I will then be the only person to mess up the place again. And if I don’t know where something came from, I can throw it away. It seems I’ve inherited stuff from multiple roommates over the years.
But I look back at how God provided all those roommates over the years, and I marvel at how good He’s been to me. I never went without roommates. And, while I had some interesting roommates over the years, the vast majority are people I count as friends. In fact, they are some of my best friends. The thought of not making new friends this way makes me a little sad. Not enough to actually get another roommate, of course.
And I’m not opposed to having a roommate in the future. I’m planning to keep a bed in the spare bedroom, just not bunk beds. But I can be very selective about who becomes my roommate. I don’t have to jump at the first guy who walks through the door.
I’m excited to see what happens in this next chapter of my life while still being thankful for what God did for me in the last one.