New Lessons From New York
a few pretty great things the greatest city in the world has taught me.
New York.
What to say about the city? The city that was featured in my journals and my drawings from a young age. That had a grip on my heart from the time I was young, and held on tightly until it got its way and brought me into it to live. Except now, I see that it wasn’t the city that held the grip at all. New York City instead was a seed that the Lord had planted, and He carefully watered and tended to it and cared for it until it became a beautiful, fruitful plant. Funny how He does that with dreams that are entrusted to Him. Seeds without water and dirt and sunlight don’t grow. But when we entrust them to the faithful Gardener, He grows them into something sweet. He shapes our desires to align with His - and delights in fulfilling them. Below are some nuggets of truth from these past few months living in this city.
1. the joy of the journey.
I think the hardest part was getting here. There was so much wrestling involved with my final decision to move, and for those of you who were involved with me in that process, you know that I went back and forth, that I so badly wanted to stay in the safety and comfort and warmth of my California home, in what I knew, opportunities that were pretty amazing, and what was generally laid out before me to step right into, like a comfortable pair of shoes, like walking a road you’ve always known.
But there was an undeniable tug in that same safety-craving heart. A tugging that said there was far more in store than what I could see and easily plan out. A God who kept pulling out a seat for me at a table and asking me to come and sit for a while. That journey both into saying “yes” and the journey of actually picking up and moving, taught me that there is much joy in the decision to step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown. Sometimes there is deep, stomach-churning anxiety that comes along with it - but I promise you it is well worth it.
2. edge & empathy & encountering.
There is perhaps a callus that develops when you live in a place like New York. People rub up against you all the time, both physically and quite uncomfortably on the subway, and verbally in the way they try to get you to change and challenge who you are and what you believe. When skin is rubbed up against, it begins to callus, or harden, to protect its boundaries. I’ve found that similarly, when my own heart and beliefs have been subjected to friction, a necessary edge has been formed - boundaries that say “this is who I am an what I believe. This is where I start and where I end.” I have dove head first into doubt and been forced to confront questions about myself and my faith in a way I never have before and thus, a stronger, more sure sense of who I am has resulted. My advice - place yourself in friction, don’t run from wrestling, it will only make you stronger.
On the other end of that, there is an immense empathy that He has cultivated in my heart lately. Manhattan in all its busyness, has taught me more about slowing down than any other place I’ve known. So much of Jesus’ ministry on earth was Him walking, stopping, encountering people. He was constantly interrupted by those crying out for healing and help, and this was where heaven met earth over and over again.
I don’t come from a city where you can walk down one block and encounter a dozen people along the way, but here, in the city, you pass by hundreds of people each day. Some of these friends who live on the street never get eye contact and they often have the most incredible life stories. Some of these friends shout so loud and hold up offensive signs and exude anger, yet they have often been hurt the most deeply. And some friends are always around people, but are somehow always lonely, yet they make the greatest friends. So it is this wild city pace that I try to counter with a head up and intentional steps, stopping to try to know and love and interact with people as much as I can.
And in that, He has shown me the importance in interruption, the promise in presence, the encouragement in encountering.
3. faithfulness in waiting.
There was quite a substantial wait in getting to this city. I was accepted into NYU two years ago but deferred my enrollment. But had I come to the city two years ago when I was “supposed to” things would have been radically different, and honestly, not wonderful.
There were things Jesus was doing in a radical way in my heart and life, from leading me to Rwanda and Berlin and Mexico to work alongside oppressed communities, to working at church and discovering a love for seeing women ignited and poured into and loved on and unleashed. From relationships that forever have changed my life, to teaching opportunities and leading worship and writing and falling in love with people and things. All of this has made me who I am - radically different than I would have been, and also radically ready for the city.
I had a moment a few weeks ago where I realized that had I come those two years ago, the church I found and fell in love with would not have been in the City. The people I call best friends did not go to school here yet. The closest people to me weren’t yet living in New York, the campus ministry I am a part of hadn’t yet started, and I wouldn’t have had an apartment. [That last one seems strange, but my little living room and kitchen allows me to host people and girls for the women’s ministry we started and it really is a big deal.
So, my heart wasn’t yet prepared for the work I would be doing in New York, and New York was not yet ready for my heart. What a sweet gift it was to have God whisper “not only was I preparing you for the city, but I was preparing the city for you.”
