Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Surprises Around Every Corner

I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days. A huge opportunity that I’d never asked for just sort of plopped in my lap on Friday and has been looming on my conscious for a better part of the weekend.


It’s odd when things like this happen because, well… they never happen to me. I’ve never been one for whom things came easily. Everything required some amount of pleading and praying, pain and sacrifice, patience and crossed fingers. But this? It came straight out of the blue, perfectly wrapped in pretty paper, almost too good to be true.


It scares me to realize that, at this stage of my life, nothing is holding me back. I have no huge obligations or responsibilities. Nothing. No one. I am as free as a bird, and it’s terrifying.


Last night I cried in the bathroom, pleading with God to give me some reason to stay here in Nashville.


As weird as it sounds, there are parts of me that want for someone to beg me to stay. (A bit of my romantic side coming through, I suppose.) I want for a gallant knight to come running after me, and, with tears streaming down his face, grab my hand and tell me that his world would end without me near. Sadly… that’s not the case. At all. Hardly.


As I shared the news with friends here, there was this small sliver of hope that someone would express their deep heartache at the thought of me leaving so soon after arriving. But, that hasn’t really been the case. Instead, they have been... supportive. [gasp!] One friend was even as bold as to advise me to run after any and every opportunity that this life may throw at you. You can always come back is what he said. But, I can’t chase the wind like he does or jump headfirst into the rabbit hole. The fear of dying, of failing, of getting lost in the shuffle is enough to have me running for safety.


It’s so strange that this comes now. Now, that I’m finding my footing. Now, that I’m learning to enjoy my life here. Now, that I’m falling in love with my church and these friends who’ve etched out little niches in this tiny heart of mine.


And, I have to ask in all honesty, Why now, God? After three years of waiting and watching Him open doors to come here… Why… now? I’ve only been here six months. A blip in the radar. A mere paragraph’s worth in what I thought would be a chapter of my life. I feel as if the story, in many ways, has yet to fully unfold.


It's true, I can always come back. But... to what? Who knows how the sands of time will mark us (me) or how distance will loosen heartstrings? I already feel the strain of change in my relationships with the people back home in Philly. And Nashville, I am afraid, is just as transient a city as Philadelphia. As hard as I may try to keep in the loop, it's inevitable that phone calls and emails will be missed or spread apart as I live my life and you live yours.


I honestly don't know what (or to whom) I'd be returning.


I think of my friend Cameron and the tough decisions he needed to make when he was preparing to leave for the Peace Corps. He'll be away for two more years, and I wonder at the anxiety he felt as he realized that life would continue without him here, that he (this city and everyone else for that matter) would be different.


Reason would tell me that I should take the opportunity and run with it, gain all the experience I can, tuck it under my belt and head back here or onward to some other city. Caution tells me to tread softly – that to leave this position I’ve now had for a mere 4 months would be professional suicide. It tells me that I need to stay at least a year, gain experience, investigate and search out opportunities to work with the existing refugee populations and use these resources to the best of my abilities. And Faith tells me that either decision will be for His glory in the end. There are no mistakes in the grand story of Grace, after all.


It’s all too confusing. And, I’m having mild panic attacks. Daily.



Saturday, June 13, 2009

Dede (Edit)

I had a very deep conversation with a fellow Ellie's Run for Africa volunteer named Dede this morning.

I've always been drawn to older people ever since I was a child. Perhaps it's the general sense of calmness that surrounds them, the quiet assurance and confidence that comes from living life and learning from the many mistakes of the past? I don't know. All I know is that I was completely at ease with Dede as I poured out my heart to her under the shade of a tall tree at the edge of the course marked out along the grassy terrain of Percy Warner Park.

We had met on Friday and decided to be partners in tearing down one of the tents (a proposedly furious storm that night threatened to rip apart every tent pitched up earlier in the afternoon). We talked a bit about my move here to Nashville, about her move here from Texas years ago when she and her husband were still dating. I shared a tiny morsel of my family and my past.

This morning as I headed over to the park to help tear-down at the conclusion of the race, I ran into Dede again. Her face lit up, she ran over to me, wrapped her arms around me and told me she had been praying for me last night. I was touched.

A couple hours passed and I wandered around talking to a couple musician-friends/acquaintances, people I'd met back home in Philly when I helped out with some of their shows. It wasn't until the end of the morning that I ran into Dede again.

We stood under that tree and talked. I poured out my heart -- all the frustrations, fears and hurts I'd experienced in the short time I've been in Nashville. She understood. Completely. And as I shared about 2 friends who'd hurt me the most in my "short" time here, the ones who've caused me the greatest heartache and from whom I've felt the most rejected, she could only say 2 words: Release them. Release them from the obligations your broken/needy heart has placed on them, from the hurt they've caused you, from their inability to understand you (or want to for that matter). When you release them, you'll finally be able to fully forgive them.

There is wisdom to be gleaned from our elders, from those to whom we've been fortunate to be bound to in God's beautifully full family.

I am thankful for Dede and am thankful for each of you -- for the ways you pray for, encourage and challenge me to grow. For the ways you remind me of the Truth that I can't seem to see during the hailstorms of life and in my stubbornness.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Ramblings...

Work sucks, but life is good... most of the time.

That's been my sentiment for the last few months. It's sad, I know. But c'est la vivre, I guess.

Pessimism aside, I am so thankful for my home group. This random hodgepodge of of people who never cease to amaze me in their pure acceptance for each other and their hunger to learn deeper the heart of God. There are no scholars or profound speakers, but we dialogue, we study the word and ask questions of it and each other. No one presumes to know the "correct" answer. No one pretends to be perfect.

Sometimes I wish I'd have met these people sooner, and wonder at God's planning; wonder if I threw a wrench in His plans with my stubbornness and fear of change and kick myself in the butt for fighting God for as long as I did, even when I knew He wanted something different for me.

Sadly, our co-leaders are leaving soon. They're heading back to Nashville and starting a new chapter and vision for/in their lives. They've no idea if it's completely the "right" thing to do, but they trust in God's wisdom and His sovereign hand at work even in this blind leap of faith they take.

It's strange how I found myself here amongst this group and in this church. But, however long it took, I'm glad and thankful for the wisdom and sovereignty of my Father.

[Annie smiley]