Learning a Southern New York City Month
Fried Catfish with hushpuppies, fried okra, and a house salad. That is what I ate for lunch today. Some of who are familiar with my journey may be asking, “where the hell in New York City did you get good southern food?!?” (Because trust, that food was delicious)
That place would be Tupelo, Mississippi.
The last month of my life has not gone according to plan. There is still a twinge in my gut typing that out, like there is a thorn living there that decides to prick me every time I try to speak truth to the fact I haven’t been happy. But it is the truth. The last month has not gone to plan, and I have been struggling with the re-route on my journey.
If you are not aware of what I am doing this year, I am a Young Adult Volunteer (YAV) with the Presbyterian Church (USA) in New York City.
My fellow YAVs and I started this journey with an orientation in Louisville on August 18th. We left orientation on August 23rd. I am now writing this almost a month later at my dad’s house in Mississippi. So how did I get here? And how did Deleine, my roommate, get to San Diego? And Lukas to San Francisco?
Why are we home?
Now there are all the actual reasons I am here: personnel issues, housing issues, miscommunication. I could write essays on why I have ended up back home, but I won’t. Instead I will try to make sense of why God has placed me here to begin my YAV year.
I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that, unfortunately, being at home has been the most uncomfortable place for me to be. It is giving me the growth I need to be successful in God’s service this upcoming year (and beyond). Do you know how mad that makes me? Do you know how much I want to scream, punch, run through empty fields and tear at the grass and scream to the heavens about how I have been wronged? How I don’t deserve what has happened this past month? Because I promise, it hasn’t been easy.
I do trust in providence though. It was my grandfathers favorite theological term, and I’ve become convinced that trust in it runs in the genetics of my family. Part of why I signed up for this year was for growth. Transformation. To see more clearly God’s path for me in Her creation. It hasn’t been the perfect start, but it has been the start planned for me. It’s made me realize how much I had planned for this upcoming year. I knew the things I wanted to do: audition for shows on the side, go to the drama book shop and drink coffee, go to bars with friends…basically I realized how I was planning to bend this year to my will, not God’s.
I have a tendency to act without listening. I get so in my own world, own dreams, I’m not considering how I fit into the larger picture. And I become convinced I have the power to do it. It makes me feel important in a very self-righteous way, where I can hold on to a morsel of importance at the cost of focus on community and the spaces I find fulfillment. I believe if I had stepped into New York without having to face this transition, I would not have been as effective in my service and ministry.
With all the twists and turns, some of them being out of my own actions while being home, I’m moving in to NYC (on October 1st!!!) with no expectations for myself or what God will plan. I know it will be a struggle when I get to New York, even if I believe I have it all figured out. I will need to find new community, make a routine, make my own food, and live with amazing (but new) people. I will also be 23 year old that will not always make the smartest or cleanest decisions as I figure out the balance between my identity and my role in God’s world. But as I said to my friend who sarcastically said, “Oh, so we are making smart decisions, aren’t we?” when we called the other day, I don’t regret the choices I have made, because I was at least able to learn something from them. And that is what God is at times, a teacher.
I move to New York in one week and I am INCREDIBLY excited to keep y’all updated on this year!
