Day 353

You leave home, you move on

And you do the best you can

I got lost in this whole world

And forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it's like I'm someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself

—The House that Built Me, Miranda Lambert

The leaves fell against the windshield of my car as I sat, quietly passing time.  The words of Miranda Lambert's song stung my heart.

For the first time since my visit to California in February, I do not hear God telling me to stay in Memphis, but neither do I hear Him telling me to go.

In February, I heard His will clearly.  He wanted me to stay, to finish learning, to grow stronger.

But now, now He's quiet.  He has offered no direction and His unresponse has made me begin to think maybe it's due time to move back to California.  Back to the place I vowed never to live again.  Back to the place that sucked away years of my life.  Back to the place whose memories hold so much pain.  Back to the city where my family still lives.

I told God I would die for my parents if that meant they would be with Him in Heaven.  I would give my life to see theirs spared.

But I fear what He is asking of me is far worse.  Dying to my desires, dying to my will, and moving back home to my parents is a fate far worse than merely dying in their place.

The lyrics of this song mean so much to me, holding thoughts much deeper than I might chance explaining.

A friend reminded me that God does not want us to grow comfortable.  This isn't our home.  Memphis isn't any more my home than Stockton is.  Heaven is where I'm bound, and then, and only then, I can rest, comfortable, in the palace of my Father.  But until then, not growing comfortable is the best weapon of defense.  Discomfort allows for flexibility whereas comfort is all too dangerous a seductress, bending us to remain in her coils of coziness.

My lease ends next September, giving me a little less than a year to spend my days in prayer over the matter, trying to discern God's voice above my own.  Should I leave and move back to Stockton, my parents would surely never leave, which means I would also stay.  Another friend, who is very wise, reminded me that we spend and invest much into Biblical leaders here in Memphis.  But what is to be done when we raise up these leaders only for them to remain here?  We should spread ourselves throughout the world, taking what we've learned and sharing it with unreached cities, investing in the uninvested.  So what good is it that I stay in a place where there are many leaders when my city is dying, overrun with sin and crime?

Should I stay, eventually my parents will move here to be with me, which means they will leave a city where nothing but death resides.  I would continue to grow with the church I have grown to love.  But mostly my family would be safe and we would be together.  But we also short Stockton of one less stable family, a city already aching from moral deprivation, thereby adding to its inevitable demise.

What to do?  My heart is torn and I can't hear God's voice clearly.  All I hear is my own, whispering fears, concerns, and meek hopes.

This, while seemingly unconnected to the One Year Challenge, is very much a part of it.  Unsure of where to root my feet leaves me wondering at the appeal of stepping into a relationship.  For what is to be served should I fall in love with a man here if my calling is in Stockton, California?  What should happen to our hearts then; should he leave his own family to attend to mine?  Yet another complication added to the puzzle of life, leaving me to figure out what serves God best and how I have matured, as the decisions I make infer what fruit has taken seed in a life claimed to be devoted to God.

Then I think life and love are not so much these decisions, but our reactions to them, being a telltale sign of our ability to follow God.  Falling in love here matters not so much as love vested in Christ would be sure to have God's will working in its way. 

I know God's will prevaileth over all.  As Jonah resisted Ninevah, he still ended up there.  No matter how much he tried to not go, there he was.  And I'm sure my fate is the same.  Wherever Jesus wants me, that's where I'll be, qualms, questions, reservations, and all.  At least I know He will be with me wherever I sojourn, even in the deepest pit.

Day 213

I wasn’t happy to come back to Memphis.

I just wasn’t.

Unsatisfied.  That’s what I’ve been feeling a lot of lately.

There’s an insatiable hunger for change growing inside me.  Once a year I get the I-want-to-move-somewhere-else-and-see-a-different-side-of-the-world bug.  I think that’s happening now.

As the days pass, I see more and more why God did what He did at certain points in my life.  Him closing doors meant opening others.

What I speak of now is that five years ago I moved to Memphis.  And I have nothing here holding me back from moving again—should that be the direction of my life.

I have no career.  I have no family.  I have no boyfriend.  The life I have here I could very well have anywhere else.

I did it once before.  Surely I can do it again?

It seems as though my time in Memphis is passing and coming to an end.

And it’s confusing to hear God say, “Find joy where I have you,” in addition to, “Be ready for anything.”

His, “Be ready for anything,” has a slight feel of meaning, “Be ready to be uprooted.”

What does He mean?

Of course I can’t know until He tells me, and right now He’s being really vague.

God, I’m ready to go wherever You’ll take me…

…but am I ready to stay if You say remain?

Trying to fix my heart to be in His right now, but I’m struggling.  I’m struggling to wait on You, Lord.

And I go to sleep tonight with an empty feeling, a feeling of longing, and I know this is for what I prayed, but I didn’t expect to feel so confused.

Tonight, I am young, and I’m ready to set the world on fire, if You’ll just tell me where to land. 

Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you (Psalm 33:20-22).

Day 119

Life.  I don’t even know how to sum up where I am at this point in the OYC.

Vacation was amazing.  I spent time with my family and friends.  I didn’t get to see everyone, and those I didn’t see (Rebekah, Andrea, and Fred) were missed, but all in all, it was a much better trip than I anticipated.

Challenge-wise, a few things changed in my heart while I was there.  Two major points of notation were the Soarin’ Over California ride and watching Eat Pray Love.

During this first moment is when I realized that not being married, not having kids, and not having a white picket fence wouldn’t leave me paralyzed in some land of unfulfillment.   Instead, for the first time, I think being single excited me.  One door closed meant I could pay attention to the other doors that are open: traveling, exploring the world, seeing new things, experiencing new things, cruises, shopping—Jamie-revolving-dreams, not family-revolving dreams.  Sounds a little selfish, but each person has their own path and none of us were promised the same thing. 

The second moment is during the movie, Eat Pray Love.  Delia looks at her best friend, the now-divorced, Liz Gilbert, who is about to embark on an amazing journey, and says she loves her husband, loves her baby, loves her life…but she so desperately wishes she could just up and go, too.  And it hit me.  The grass is always greener.  I’ve heard it before; the singles wish they were married, and the married wish they were single.  Being single isn’t a death sentence.  Moms have opportunities, single women have opportunities—they’re just different opportunities.  And I was, like, “Okay, that makes sense.  I can be happy like this.”

So while I’m at peace with not dating right now, the rest of my life has decided to tumble.  California brought me to a very good place in that respect, but left my heart aching in other ways.  I have never so desperately missed my family.  And my friends in California.  We grow up and older each year, and while it’s beautiful to see, I can’t shake the feeling of the ticking of the clock.  Life is short.  Where do I need to be spending it?

One of my customers came in on Friday and asked me about my trip.  I told her my feelings, and she said, “When you’re not settled down, you have the opportunity [to move if you want to].  It’s one of the perks.”  And that made it all the more tempting and realistic to think about moving back to California.

But then what about my life in Memphis?  Maybe my time here is passing.  Tabitha has moved away.  Micaela has moved away.  April is moving away.  And other friends are growing—and I’m so proud of them.  Paths are shifting and it’s hard to stay in each other’s lives.  But I also have so many people in my life, it’s hard to keep up with them all.

I’m so tired, God.  Just tired.  I feel like I’ve been moving full-speed for the last year and a half.  I don’t know what happened that I’m always doing something and don’t have time…I just don’t have it, and not having time leads to not having energy.  I don’t want to be a bad friend, but not leaving people hanging has become such a struggle. 

And I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to learn about You, disciple others, still have a social life, work 40 hours a week, not live in the same city as my family, take care of two dogs, own and operate a working car, live alone in an apartment, have a community group, have a small group, and be a member of a church all at the same time.

I’m breaking, God.

I’m not a good multi-tasker at all, and I’m failing.  I’m failing and I’m sinking, and I don’t know what to do or which direction my heart is pulling.

Please help me know.