: i'm moving!

The plan was to go to California in August, get my master’s degree in theology, find an awesome job, secure my identity, and conquer the world. I wasn’t doing cartwheels about moving to the West Coast, but every sign seemed to point in the direction of grad school and I was okay with it because I desperately wanted a plan. Everything about the move felt fine. No warning signs, no red flags.

When I found out my dad was travelling to New York City on business last month, I bought a ticket to tag along as a last hurrah before going back to school. I called it my “final irresponsible decision before becoming an adult.” I’ve been to the city a dozen times and knew exactly which restaurants I wanted to try and shows I wanted to see. It was a decision that impulsive 23-year-olds can make sometimes, and it was a fun trip.

On a surface level, that’s all it really was … a fun trip.

Something deeper and more difficult to explain was happening inside, though. I felt connected to the city, as if it had grown to make room for me. Or maybe I had grown to make room for it. Either way, there was a needle and thread weaving the heart of New York to the heart in my chest and I was bound to pay attention to it. As I boarded my plane at the end of the week, I sensed a whisper echoing in the crevices of my skull: Let go of your plans and move to New York instead.

It was an early flight and I was tired.

Plus, if God didn’t want me to go to school, I wouldn’t have been accepted, right? What could possibly sound more like the will of God than studying the character of God for two more years? Why would He lead me in one direction and change everything last minute? It didn’t make sense.

The whisper came again: Let go of your plans and move to New York instead.

You know those times when you know that you know that you know He spoke to you? Well, this was it, and it was Him, and He changed everything while I was sitting in 27B. I got off the plane and told my parents over breakfast, certain they would pass out and die right then and there because my plans were changing once again. They didn’t die, though. They actually laughed, cried, and told me to follow the voice of God.

So I’m moving to New York. I applied for nine million jobs and when I get one, I’ll pack my bags and go. My heart is full of anticipation mingled with fear, but I am so deeply confident that I’ve slipped into the pocket of God’s will for the next step of my life I could cry. And I do cry all the time, because letting go of control isn’t as easy as releasing a balloon into the sky, but I’m told it’s far more rewarding. Best of all, nobody thinks I’m crazy except the occasional person who thinks I’m crazy. My life doesn’t have to make sense to anyone, though, not even me, so long as I’m following Jesus.

Here’s to the wildly unpredictable God whose purposes are greater than mine.
May my plans forever grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.