I have finally --
finally! -- finished the final book in J.K. Rowling's fantabulous Harry Potter series. And . . . I'm kind of sad. I've grown up so much with those books. I read the first four books in one huge bite at the end of my senior year of high school, the summer of 2000. Since then, amazing changes have taken place in my life. I graduated from high school. I began working at a Girl Scout day camp, which eventually led me to pursue elementary education as a career. I went to college. I learned and grew and met some of the most wonderful people. I traveled to the most beautiful little island country on the other side of the planet. I met and decided to follow Jesus. I came back changed. I graduated from college. I moved to a new metropolitan city and completed my graduate degree in one insane whirlwind of a year. I got tired and followed God west. I began my first "real job." I fell in love with Montana and made it my home instead of a place of transience. I found wonderful new friends, and an awesome sister in Christ and in spirit. I fell in love with the most amazing man in the whole of existence and am marrying him in seven short weeks. I am trusting God for the next steps of this little adventure that is my life. And through all of that, marking the time in his own small way, was Harry.
