I am embarking on a journey. One that involves decluttering (and consolidating) my current lifestyle by donating half of what I own and moving to New York City. Cue Taylor Swift and Alicia Keys. I’ll be belting out “Welcome to New York/It’s been waiting for you” all the while adverting my eyes so I don’t notice the rats crawling around the subway tracks (so ick).
When I look back at the ideas I used to form the path I thought I wanted my life to follow, I shudder at the fact I could have gotten everything I ever wanted.
Throughout life there are obligations, rules, and expectations placed on us by either society, family and friends, or ourselves. We try to cram our lives into these certain molds or boxes based on “how it’s always been done.” My journey is about stepping away from all of the rules I’ve placed on my life, and learning what it means to build a life I desire to live. A life following after God’s will. After all, and I know from too many failed attempts to control my own life, God’s path is always better than mine.
Had you asked me eight-ish years ago what my life would look like at this very moment, I would have told you I would be married right out of college and have two kids by age twenty six. I would have a kick ass career (with a sweet email signature), and I would have my white picket fence. I definitely would NOT have told you I was back living at my parents or single with a cat (just one!) at twenty eight years old.
Sign in Terminal C at LaGuardia Airport in New York.
Life is funny, and it rarely happens as we expect or plan. When I look back at the ideas I used to form the path I thought I wanted my life to follow, I shudder at the fact I could have gotten everything I ever wanted. My early twenties were spent desperately making life happen the way my southern upbringing said it should. As time progressed, and I realized I wasn’t checking boxes off my checklist (so long email signature dream), I began to walk through a (long) season of doubt.
I forgot to remember God’s plan is always perfect (Psalm 18:30). I questioned. I doubted. I started to passively live my life reacting to things as they happened rather than seeking intention. I was no longer deciding who I was, what I liked, or what I wanted to become. I put my trust and confidence in quantity over quality of friendships, and I lost myself in unhealthy relationships.
When my already shaky foundation crumbled, as usually happens when we aren’t walking God’s path, I was forced to reevaluate every facet of my life, and it involved begrudgingly moving back in with my parents (after living on my own for nine years). I had entered a new season of obedience and waiting, and I found God to be eerily silent. So I journaled. I prayed. I questioned. I lamented. I praised. I studied. I became content. As I explained to a friend earlier today, I am so thankful I walked through this season of unknowns. I learned that as long as I continue to seek God’s will, I am right where I am supposed to be.
My waiting season lasted about a year. A whole year of God telling me simply “wait,” and that’s exactly, though no always happily, what I did. I was rewarded with a door opening in a way I never could have imagined possible, and while I still have no idea what’s going to happen on this journey, I do know God is in control.
I’m glad you’re here. Please grab some coffee (with Bailey’s) or wine (mmmm, wine) and let’s chat about life. What make us tick or just the general absurdities of navigating the unknown.
xoxo, C
