internship cruelty.

12 Apr
April. Month eight of internship. How is that even possible?
I feel like the beginning, uncertain Lindsay was just yesterday. That I was only recently unpacking, settling in, and feeling lonely in Dawson. It seems so close but this is the eighth month of my time in Dawson. Over halfway complete.
Eight of twelve. I suspect that these last four months will fly by faster than I ever want them to fly. Once summer hits, I will blink and it will be time to pack my apartment and move back to St.Paul.
It hit me last week when Grace received the paperwork on the new intern. New intern. I will soon be the old intern who once taught confirmation. The past intern who quilted with the ladies. The intern who baked for staff meetings. I found myself feeling a bit possessive of Grace, of my role as the intern. I don’t want someone else to be in my place … I love my place too much.
Internship is a cruel process in this regard. ‘Here,’ internship says. ‘Move to this town. Form relationships. Get to know the community, the church, the people. But in twelve months I’m going to take you away whether you want to leave or not.’ Internship is mean.
I love it here. Knowing that it is month eight, I am beginning to grow sad. I realize that this week is my last release time class. Soon it will be my last confirmation class. Last Monday afternoon Bible study. I’m not ready for lasts. I don’t want to be kicked out and plopped in a classroom again. But, I suppose, whether I’m ready or not, it will happen and I will enjoy my last four months as much as I can.

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