Just in case you have never noticed, I’m not adept at saying goodbye. If we don’t hug when parting, or experience a verbal goodbye, it’s completely acceptable to me because it truly means that I will be seeing you again. Perhaps I should commence offering the phrase, “Next Time” in place of “goodbye” because the reality is that I prefer not to get mopey and teary-eyed. I would rather say, “Next Time,” because whether that happens on this side of heaven or not, I plan to see you again. That is probably preferable to what is an easier solution for me, just make an Irish Exit causing people to look around and wonder where I’ve gone.
Recently during a CSKLS conference, Amy, a new friend and the spouse of one of the members, observed this quirkiness about me quickly, sharing that she had an introverted person in her life and noticed the pattern of disappearing. Being drained after presenting, catching up with colleagues, jotting down notes during presentations…I was on information overload. When this happens, I disappear. Now, the veteran conference attenders are not surprised and likely often ask, “Where’s Julie?” My most intimate friends and family are likely to offer “…gone to bed…to read…to walk. She’ll resurface when she’s ready, Trust Me!” Sometimes I just need to laugh at my own quirkiness. I try to do better, honest I do, but at times I just have to say, “Thank you for your patience. I was low on battery and had to recharge.” It has nothing to do with how much I am enjoying an event or person, I just drain at a faster rate than others. Think of it as one of the apps on your phone constantly refreshing in the background, it drains the battery at a faster rate.
I would also like to offer another application for using the phrase Next Time when departing because the reality is that we likely did not have adequate time to share full updates on our life stories. An annual conference, where cultivating new friendships and catching up with long-standing friends is the norm, never has enough time for complete stories even when it is intentionally built into the schedule. Many close friends and colleagues are entering seasons where they are asking What’s Next? I genuinely desire to know how God is writing the Next Season of their story, both the blessings and the burdens. Just as we are sometimes offered the phrase, “Next Season or Next Time on [tv show name], as we binge watch from season five to season six, I am Just Curious about how God will reveal Himself and walk us through whatever truly comes next!
Heather Creekmore offers a reminder that comes from Scripture that has particular meaning for me lately, “In Isaiah 43:19, God gives this message through His prophet to His people: ‘For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see?’” Whether it’s walking through a season of empty nesting, a new career, a new position, we have an opportunity to lift up this prayer: “Dear Heavenly Father, help me to seek out your purpose for this Next Season of my life. Remind me of the dreams I once had. Rekindle in me a passion for what you’ve created me to do. Lead me and guide me to What’s Next in this new season. Help me to use any newfound time surplus wisely and for your glory.” I’m unsure of what a time surplus is; however, I will commit to Cultivating Gratitude for all seasons the Lord allows me to experience.
I wonder if anyone else finds saying goodbye difficult and has another solution that works for them. Would you consider sharing the phrase or action in the area below?
Reference:
Creekmore, H. (2024). Aging gratefully: A 30-day devotional for women. Our Daily Bread Publishing. (May/June 2024) (Day 22)
Flourishing @ Life 
Going through all these blog posts to find just one to respond to was quite challenging. While all the previews I had read were quite tempting, this one stood out to me the most, resonating with me quite a lot. I have also found that I am one of those people who have a hard time telling people “goodbye.” Whether it is the fact that I know I will be seeing that person again or not, I just cannot bring myself to do it. In retrospect, when you look at it, it could be the last time, but you would never know.
Last May, some of my family friends lost one of their sons to a spontaneous rupture of his heart valve, causing him to bleed out internally and suddenly pass. Knowing him for my whole life, him knowing me for his, and my parents knowing him since he arrived on the earthside to some fantastic people for parents, reading this just made me realize that I will never see him again. I will never again get the chance to be that little girl to run and hide once that gentile giant walks into the room. I will never again get to go with him and his little brother to get popsicles from his grandmother’s house. I will never see him grow old with his high school sweetheart, whom he met working at Baskin Robins, and have some kids of their own. That last time that I saw him lying there in the casket, wearing his suit that he had just graduated from UK law school a day before his death, will be the last time I see him for quite a while. That day, having to leave him there surrounded by the ones who loved him, both earthside and not, at this moment, I am glad that I didn’t say “goodbye.” I am glad that, in that moment, and with the other special people in my life that I have lost, I haven’t said “goodbye.” I opted just to say nothing, and so far, that Irish Goodbye that I so often do has been put to great use.
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