taking the long way home.: July 2013

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Sometimes, there are things in life you don't necessarily enjoy or want to do, but you know they are good for you. Running, limiting sweets, drinking V-8. Things that sort of hurt in the process, but the benefits often outweigh the price, or no one would ever even consider them.

Today, for me, it's writing. Or, more specifically, writing about the anxiety that I've been dealing with for at least the better part of the past year.

I've prided myself on being the normal one in my family (forgive me of my self-righteousness). I've thanked the Lord that I've not had to deal with the enslaught of issues that have plagued those on the branches of my family tree. And, when things got hard, I knew the One to turn to.

Today, I stepped outside to head to the grocery when it brushed past me, it's touch lingering and recalling memories that for no apparent reason brought about a haunting nostalgia. The first crisp air of fall, a season we all long for as a reprieve from often unbearable, scorching summer heat that leaves us desparate for a change.

But for me, for some reason, that breeze wasn't the promise of a fresh season. It was the poignant reminder of a painful past. They say scent is the number one trigger of memories; I would argue that it's the first cool snap of fall. I don't know why it triggers so much anxiety (aside from fall being a gateway to winter cold and awful clothes and seasonal depression), but each time I felt the simultaneous warm sun on my skin and brisk breeze pass me by, it was a lurking reminder of the difficulties to come, again, in the new season.

I try to separate what I feel and what I know to be true. I had to begin this process at the end of last summer, and I honestly never expected to still be dealing with this. Where every decision is an opportunity to make the wrong, game-ending choice, and the fear of having to deal with anxiety is often worse than the anxiety itself. You fear talking about it because you fear being seen differently because of it. And you fear being seen differently because you fear that no one could truly want to try to understand it, deal with it, or even put the effort into loving you because of it.

I know these things to not *be* true, but the problem with anxiety is that it warps your emotions to manipulate your truths into doubts. And the sinking feeling you get about sharing your emotions and truths and fears, and actually being right about them, prevents you from dealing with the anxiety the way we are called to deal with anything: in the light.

Today, I'm refusing to call lights-out at bedtime. I'm taking a stand because I know I am strong enough to be transparent, even if our most common misconception of transparent items is that they are extremely fragile. And tomorrow, I will turn and fight the lies again, as much as I have to, with as much strength I can muster. I'm thankful that even in the hard things, even when the anxiety makes it harder, I can still turn to the Lord and trust that He is bigger, stronger, and more powerful than I feel or realize.

***

I didn't realize this at time of posting, but I'm not the only one wrapped in the shroud of anxiety today. Nor am I the only one taking courage and fighting. Read below.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

my new adventure

We are officially halfway through july. As hard as it is for me to believe that this summer is pretty much disassembling its umbrellas and rolling up its beach towels, it's even harder for me to believe everything that has happened over the course of the past year.

I hardly know where to start. Most would say the beginning, but I argue that I should start with the end.

I am moving to Indianapolis.

Trust me, not what I expected to hear, either.

But sometimes, we make plans, plans that we try so, so hard to align and attribute to God's will. and sometimes, yes, our surrender and our obedience pleases Him, but I can't help to think how often He must chuckle and say, "Oh, my child."

***

In October, after 10 years of dreaming about it, I began applying for the Peace Corps. In November, I submitted my application, told my principal I wouldn't be returning, resigned from my shortly-held position as Mission Lead with my new church, and thought that the next three years of my life was pretty well set.

I interviewed in December, received my nomination the next day, got my legal clearance in February, and was told I would leave in July.

and in March, things began to change.

For starters, I caught back up with Ryan, the guy who subleased my house while I was in Haiti last summer. I had no idea we would fall for each other as quickly as we did. Upon making my first of many trips to visit him in Indy, we talked and learned much about each other and how we ended up in our respective cities and career paths. After sharing all about my global galavants and my several failed attempts at enrolling in grad school, he nonchalantly, even half-jokingly asked me a question that would pretty much ruin me:

"So when you don't know what to do in life, do you just flee the country?"

I went about my business that weekend, not thinking of that question, and certainly not talking about the Peace Corps. How could this man, that hardly knew me at this point, call me out on something that myself and those closest to me have failed to realize?

After a whirlwind weekend in which was way harder to leave than anticipated, that question haunted me. I had already begun having doubts about the Peace Corps as I had realized the anxiety I had been dealing with during that time, and how pervasive it had been in my decision to leave and join the PC. But I had been less than vocal about this, and only to a few people. Now, I was faced with this question, and I knew I had to sit down and properly evaluate my motives for joining.

I decided to wait for my formal invitation to the PC, with my placement location, before making any concrete choices. Regardless of how and why I applied in the first place, this had been my dream, and I knew there were several places I just would not be able to turn down the opportunity to.

The end of the school year came and went, and before I knew it, I was back from an amazing trip to the Grand Canyon, and life in Nashville ground to a halt. With a tentative departure of July, and it being mid-June, I decided to contact the PC to get any update on the progress of my application. I attached the last correspondence we had at the end of February, in which it said they were working on Spring placements, and I would get mine after those leaving first got theirs. As far as I knew, I was just waiting on a bright and shiny invitation to come in the mail.

Her response, after three days, did not even acknowledge that I had contacted her. She said in order for her to review my file-- wait, what?! You've had it 7 months and had not yet reviewed it?-- that she would need for me to answer the following questions, a list of 11 questions that I had already discussed at length during my hour-and-45-minute interview. the kicker was when she asked when was the earliest date I could depart. this had been answered on my application, during said interview, and then they gave me the date of July.

Reading this email, I was totally frustrated. I knew I had a decision to make, and it wouldn't come down to a cut-and-dry, you're going to China-- which means you're not going decision. I had to either start over, or I had to walk away.

To answer those questions again would seem insincere. I knew what to say; I knew what they wanted to hear. But it all felt fake to go through this whole process again from where I was.

So, I withdrew my application.

I spent the following week in Florida, not sharing my decision yet, and then the next 2 1/2 weeks in Indianapolis, where we talked about the thought of me moving, what that might look like, looking at apartments, discussing if I could see myself living in Indy for a couple years, and if that was what we both wanted. and, it was. Ryan has two years left in Med school, and that's not very conducive to travel or long distance relationships. and the thought of being in the same city as my boyfriend is pretty nice :)

So, pending getting a job, I decided I would move. and then I got back to Nashville, and just altogether decided to move. At this point, I need a job regardless of what city I am in. If I am going to move anytime in the next two years, it needed to be at the beginning of a school year, and what better time than now when I was already planning on leaving Nashville and had already quit my job. Makes me wonder if that's what God had up His sleeve all along.

***

The thought of leaving Nashville behind is terrifying to say the least. I may have not been raised here, but I most definitely grew up in this city. So much has happened in the past 6 1/2 years since choosing to make Nashville my home. The friends here are family. Many of them are from back home and have known me for 15 years. Letting go of this city and the people in it is going to be extremely difficult.

But, it is time for a new journey. It is time to take a risk and a real big leap of faith. I've never moved for a guy before, and yes, there's huge risk in that. But there's huge value and reward in it too. I'm excited for this new adventure. It is definitely not the path I imagined even just months ago, but as sad as I am to leave, I am just as excited to start this new chapter.

So there you have it. To those that have supported my Peace Corps adventure, I am so sorry to disappoint you. It's been hard for me to walk away from this dream, just as any dream is hard to let go of. But I have to trust that what the Lord has for me in this next chapter will be better than I could've planned myself. I am trusting Him to guide me in this new season of new cities and jobs and friends. All of that is so hard to navigate on your own, but I am hopeful that the Lord will direct my steps.

Please continue your prayers as this journey will be no-less difficult than one in Asia or Africa.

It's funny; I have no qualms with the thought of moving to a new country, in which I don't speak the language, don't know a soul, and will likely have to eat a thing or two in which I don't know where it came from. Those things don't scare me; in fact, I thrive on change and the unfamiliar. Yet, the thought of moving just 4 1/2 hours away to a city I've spent some time in now, with a guy I've come to trust and care a lot about, is a little scary, mainly because I know my heart is on the line. I'm discovering my insecurities, each little heavy-rooted one at a time. I find it interesting to note that physical safety and material comforts and potentially isolated living situations don't make me flinch one bit, but when the heart is involved, there's fear of failure, of hurt, and of losing. To me, that illustrates a lot about myself, namely that there is a huge learning curve for me to overcome, and this might be just the challenge that the Lord had for me in the first place. It's in the challenges in life that we grow and come to learn so much about ourselves. I'm excited to do that in a new city, and with someone that is there to listen as I am honest about my fears and to help me fight them one at a time.

one-way

Indianapolis is a cursed city.

not Sodom and Gomorrah sort of cursed; but by these inconvenient little things called one-way streets.

seriously-- I have never witnessed so many one-ways in my life.

so one morning, I'm out exploring, pre-caffeine mind you, and I'm waiting at a red light at one of those confusing intersections where 3 roads converge. going about my business, I make a left turn ... onto a one-way street.

i wouldn't have actually realized this, had two cars not already been occupying the lanes and fast approaching my ill-turned elantra. one graciously got behind the other, and i found the nearest intersection to right-my-wrong.

and I got to thinking: sometimes, we don't know the roads we take. they are unfamiliar, often confusing, and the signs aren't all that clear. someone that has been down that road could explain where the one-ways are or where they begin, but its hard to visualize that for yourself until you are there. sometimes, the GPS does little to advise us, and sometimes we just miss it on account of our own disconnectedness.

but something comes out of those moments we are headed the wrong direction: we learn. we learn the structure of the city; we learn for ourselves the flow of the streets. it becomes a part of us that we carry with us, informing us of the next time we are approach an intersection.

so whether you're sitting at the intersection, waiting to make a turn, or you're driving the wrong way down a one-way street, take note and learn from your mistakes. know that the Lord will graciously redirect your path, and He doesn't revoke our license just because we lose the way.