In transit

The United States Postal Service (as do some courier services) has a great online feature. It allows you to track your package as it makes its way to its destination. Every time it changes hands, its tracking number gets scanned and it registers on the website. So if you have a map of the US in front of you, you could actually imagine your package moving its way closer to its destination. The package’s status will read: In transit.

In transit. I like that. The words carry with it a whole context that not a lot of other words are able to convey. In transit implies a point of origin and a destination. In transit implies a movement, a going forth, a dynamic reality for the object in question. In transit implies a purposiveness by its very nature: it’s trying to get somewhere. It’s not there yet, but it will get there eventually. In transit implies a temporariness to an event—that the object is at a place where it will not necessarily spend the rest of its life, that it is not attached permanently to any one thing or any one place.

In transit. I like that. I could use that status about my life. I have a point of origin—birth, or to be more technical the beginning of life (prior to birth). I have movement. I am constantly being asked to change and to grow, to be better than I was yesterday and not quite as good as I am tomorrow. And when I say better, I do not mean more successful or even smarter or richer. I mean better—at loving, at forgiving, at being a human being. And then, there is a temporariness about this life that the world often tries to obscure. And more importantly, there a temporariness about me.

I am a finite creature. This body of mine is not getting any suppler and more flexible. It requires more care than it did when I was a teenager. Not as much care as a middle-aged person or a geriatric, but care nonetheless. This brain is not as fast as it was when I was in grade school and could memorize poems and oratorical pieces in a couple of days or so. And I can no longer escape unscathed if I ever decide to pull an all-nighter. I am in transit.

Although I am not as young as I used to be, I’d like to think I’ve become more of the person I’m trying to become. I’m wiser now (most of the time at least), more careful about what I choose to believe and whose opinions matter. I’m more patient now, with myself and with others and with the world in general. I’m more understanding now, more tolerant when people make mistakes and more forgiving of myself when I do. And while it would be ideal for me to always be moving forward, I backtrack, too, every once in a while. And so I’m having to constantly check myself and relearn certain lessons. Loving people and their imperfections, that one always causes me to slow down a bit. But I do my best to keep moving forward, to remain in transit.

But I must say, the best part about being in transit is that I have a destination. That this road does end. That the stress and the suffering and the not-knowing do end. That there is a place better than this. And that there’s more to life than this. And at the end of this transient life, is Someone who is waiting for me with arms wide open, with a heart more forgiving than mine, and who can share eternity with me. And every day I spend with other transients like me, is one day closer to my eternity with God.