I’m trying to wake up each morning with this at the front of my mind. That might sound depressing, waking up remembering that my time at Taylor is slowly coming to a close. But I’m trying not to think of it in a depressing way. Sure those goodbyes will be tough. I don’t enjoy thinking about the weeks following, either. I will need to find a job because banks tend to get upset if you don’t pay your loan payment each month.

I wake up with this number on my mind because I don’t want to reach May 23, 2015 and wonder where the time went. When did January become March? When did March become May? When did my first day of freshman classes become my final day of senior classes? Why did I not pay attention to the calendar? Why did I wish for the semester to go by faster?

Echoing in my mind is the simple verse in Ephesians. “Make the most of every opportunity.” In a time where my focus is less on classes, less on the people I’m around and more on what’s to come at the end of May, I’m finding that it is easy to skim the moments I’m in. Seconds pass, minutes pass, hours pass. I’m always looking to what’s ahead.

But I am here. I will never be with these people, at this university, in these moments ever again.

128 days.

That’s not that many. I have 128 marbles in my jar labeled: Undergraduate Education: Taylor University. Each day, a marble will be taken out and added to the pile of yesterdays, the pile of memories that I’ll talk about over coffee with friends. And so I’ve decided to document these days, to buy a jar and some marbles. I’ve decided to take out a marble a day, a tangible reminder that these days are coming to a close.

And that’s what this is: a reminder. A reminder to make the most of each day, each moment. A reminder to celebrate, to engage in the lives of those around me. A reminder to thank those who have invested in me. A reminder to take more pictures. A reminder to take less pictures.

Because I’m human, and I need reminders. I need marble jars. I need to remember that these days, although some might seem like torture, are numbered. Because I’m tired of reaching the end of something and wondering where the time went. I’m tired of wishing I would have realized how little time I had in those moments.

And because I don’t want to miss these days.

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