It started as a simple errand; I wanted to see if Hobby
Lobby had put their Christmas trees out yet (they have not) so I headed out
into the muggy evening to find out. The drive there was fairly uneventful,
but as I turned out of my apartment complex and saw the city below I was struck
with the beauty of this place. I remembered the first time I set foot in
Nashville. It was nothing like I’d pictured and everything I’d always wanted (but never known I did). There was something so magical about this city I had stumbled
into by sheer accident, and it took my breath away. But sometimes I forget.
I’ve been here a little over three months now. This is
absolutely crazy to me. Some days it feels like I’ve been here forever, and
other days it feels like I just got here yesterday. Truthfully I’ve barely
scratched the surface of all that Nashville has to offer- all its amazing
things to do, places to see, and people to meet. But still, three months is a
long time. I’ve made some friends and started to find places to fit here. No,
it’s nothing like I thought it would be. The EP is finished but not online yet
(waiting for the artwork to be finished…which should be soon!), I did just get
a part time job at Barnes & Noble, which will give me something to do and
bit of income until I find something more permanent, but it certainly isn’t the
dream job. But it’s something. And I’m starting to feel comfortable here.
And therein lies the problem. Often with comfort comes
complacency. And when you become complacent it’s easy to lose the magic of a
thing or place. When I first got here most of my time spent out of my apartment
was spent behind the screen of my Garmin trying to figure out where on earth I
was and where I was supposed to be going. Now that I’ve gotten to know the city
I can get a lot of places without it. But once you know a place you often see
it as it is in your head. I worked so hard to draw a map of Brentwood in my
mind so I could learn the lay of the land. But now what I see when I look at
the city is usually that map- places and things, streets and stoplights. But
there’s so much more than that.
This place is so full of magic. I felt it the moment I
stepped off the plane last April. I felt it as I walked the streets with my
parents that weekend, and alone that July. I felt it when I got caught in my
first Tennessee thunderstorm after a late-night movie with a friend. And oh sweet south, did I feel it as I drove
to the airport to head back to Houston, tears streaming down my face. I think
I’ve gotten so wrapped up in getting settled here that I’ve lost sight of why I
wanted to come here in the first place. And when I look at this place with
fresh eyes I see the magic hasn’t gone anywhere.
As I drove to Hobby Lobby I saw the rain clouds forming over
the city below. (I think it will be helpful for you to know that my complex is
atop a hill of sorts so Brentwood is, in fact, below me when I look out from
my apartment.) A shadow fell over the rolling hills, a few brave beams of sunlight
peaking through the clouds and the tall trees. And I thought to myself over and
over again, “I never want to take this for granted.” The fact that I get to
walk out my door every day to this view; that I get to live in a place that
looks like this, where the people are as sweet as the tea, where the magic is
palpable- I want to wake up every morning grateful for that. The magic is here,
buzzing in the air, dripping from the dark grey clouds above, flashing in the
sky tonight.
So I take myself back to last April and July, and I hold
every moment in my mind and try to capture the feelings- of adventure and
wonder and absolute gut-wrenching terror that brought me here in the first
place.
On the way back home I saw the sun in my rearview mirror and
the storm rolling in ahead. And I realized this is my life, my future. I have
no idea what lies ahead and, quite frankly, that scares the heck out of me.
Moving here was the “brave” part, but I also think it was the easy part. It
reminds me of cliff jumping. (Side note, I did that! I went cliff jumping with
some friends a few weekends ago and it was probably the single most terrifying
and exhilarating experience of my life. I adored it. PS for those of you who
feel the need to tattle to my mother, don’t bother- she already knows. And no,
she wasn’t particularly pleased about it. But back to my point…) Jumping off a
very high cliff into the lake below was just nigh paralyzingly scary. It took
every once of courage in my small frame (and just a dash of reckless abandon)
to just leap. I felt like I was falling forever. I kept waiting and waiting to
hit the water. Then I finally did. And it was over; I’d done it. And it wasn’t
nearly as bad as I expected. In fact, it was wonderful. It’s a memory I will
keep (and cherish) for the rest of my life. (I even did the high cliff twice!)
But then the jump was over and I was in the water. Now what?
I had to swim back to a lower cliff so I could climb back
up. It was a long swim and after the jump my heart was racing. I’m a fairly
good swimmer, but the long swim back was definitely the hard part. See, leaping
off a cliff took faith. But swimming back to shore took effort. And I wondered
as I reached a lower part of the cliff if I’d be able to climb it. And the
answer was no. I had to keep swimming and swimming until I finally found one I
could climb.
I figured I would make it home tonight before the heart of the storm
hit. But as I looked out on it I thought about countless road trips I took with
my family as a kid. It probably wasn’t so great for my father, but my favorite part was driving through the
rain. As a kid, sitting in the back seat as the rain dripped down my window was
such an amazing thing. The world often looks more beautiful when seen between
raindrops, and some of my best daydreams took place in those moments. I would
lose myself in a thousand different fairy tale lands without fear because my
daddy was at the wheel, and I trusted him. I knew that he would get me safely
wherever we were going. And that beyond the rain lay the daybreak. It struck me
that driving through the rain is really only scary for the one driving the car
(unless, of course, you are my mother, who is afraid of everything when someone
else is driving- especially rain). I
know that the Lord taking the wheel is both a cheesy cliché and a Carrie
Underwood song, but I’m going to use it anyway, because that’s what I felt as I
drove toward the dark wall tonight- an overwhelming sense of not being afraid.
I am free to sit in the back seat and watch the world from between raindrops,
and lose myself without fear. Because my Daddy is driving the car, even though
I have no idea where we are going. But He does. And He’ll get me there safely.
And beyond the rain lies the daybreak.
At this point the rain actually did hit me. Full force. I
kept driving because I was only about 2 miles from home, and my apartment
complex was pretty much the closest place to pull off anyway. And in that
moment, driving the car, I was afraid. Traffic was going about 15 mph and I
could barely see the road directly in front of me. The wind blew the rain in
bursts so some moments I could see a little, and other moments I felt like I
was in a rinse cycle of a car wash. But I got home safely and this only
heightened my feeling of the Lord speaking to me, saying that as long as I
don’t try to drive the proverbial car there’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re
headed to the daybreak on the other side. I’m just not sure how long it’s going
to take to get there.
Well, that was deep.
I did manage to include most of the new updates in there,
however. Like the part time job I’ll be starting on Monday. Or the new friends
and the cliff jumping. Even the EP status. Really the only other thing I can
think of is that I finished my book. Whoop! Now to review and edit it. It certainly took a long time, but
I’m so happy. And not at all surprised that it took Tennessee
for me to get it done. I told you, there’s something magical about this place.
It’s almost electric. All you have to do it reach out and touch it. Especially on
a night like this, with a perfect thunderstorm that rattles your bones and
terrifies your pet rat.
The heart of the storm has just about passed over as I finish writing
this. But the rain is still falling, and I can still hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. I got drenched
running in from my car earlier, even though I had an umbrella. It was insane. In case
you’re wondering if I changed out of my wet clothes and into my Christmas
onesie, of course I did. I mean, what
else would you wear on a night like this? (Especially after seeing the
Christmas decorations at Hobby Lobby- they have most of the decorations out
already, just not the trees. I shall return there this weekend and continue Tree Hunt 2013.) And
now I’m headed to brew a nice cup of tea, have a molasses cookie (my
grandmother’s recipe), and watch some form of delightful British television (I
haven’t decided which one yet).
