Going Back to that Library

 It was my first time going back to that library after 2 years. I avoided it. I didn't want to relive unpleasant and difficult memories. When I was working as an intern there, I would deeply miss and crave helping students and working at a school. My heart longed for that once again. But no, I was here, stuck here- counting the weeks and hours like no tomorrow. Time would pass slowly, increasingly so. I would try to survive with prayers, offering up intentions, and forming my own inspiration for goals, ideas and books to read. 

While shelving children's books, I once saw a tutoring session happen in the quiet of the early Fall evening.  I was across the way, buried and burdened with putting away usually thin and one too many children's tales, adventures, animal stories, family and culture and all the rest of the categories I have long forgotten. I wish I could tutor again I thought in my head, hearing the session from across the way. 

So, last week was my first time coming back to that place- filled with memories of shelving books, not fully knowing what I was doing- but trying to look like I did, creating book display posters and doing the not so fun, meticulous task of finding the books in a squeaky, awkward cart. 

What's interesting is that I barely remember any of those memories now. They're not fresh and detailed in my brain like they used to or seem to matter as much as they did. They're locked up somewhere, with the key thrown away. Barely visible, barely important now, yet increasingly relevant and important to my story and what God has written. 

Last week I tutored there, and it felt so natural. I knew I was in the right place, doing what I've done for a while and what brings me life. Instead of shelving, organizing and displaying books with what sometimes felt like many eyes watching in the quiet sphere of the small library, I was reading words, reading books and stories with a girl whom I was tutoring. It all felt right.