its a mad mission

I have some thoughts and some pics. First, some thoughts.

Things regarding working in manhattan:
–I have 5 Bank of America’s within walking distance, and a starbucks in my building lobby.
–Emergency Action Plan reviews begin by scaring the boohoggily out of me. The building sirens on our floor went off, and nobody had told me we were having a drill that day. I found out when we all went into the lobby, and I noticed everyone seemed nonchalant, even for New Yorkers. Yeah, well I was about to turn in my resignation and head back to the farm.
–At 30 minutes, I have the shortest commute of any of the coworkers I’ve asked so far. Average is 1.5 to 2 hours, one way.

Things regarding working on the 22nd floor:
–my ears pop when I ride the elevator to the ground floor. We’re that high.
–When I look out my window, I notice two things: The Empire State Building, and moody stone men staring or glaring at me from across the way. Very odd looking gargoyles (see below).

Things regarding living with the Craftons in Brooklyn:
–It is good to come home to cooked food and the cutest baby in NY.
–I am blessed.

And now, some photos…

View from my window.

The moody men who stare at me.

My office building. That brick base is actually 11 floor high school.

My hood.

Family and me  at the icecream shop/farm in CT.

22nd floor. I start tomorrow!

Just give me a pair of scissors and a field of flowers…

We visited an old cemetary on our walk this morning.

**Written Tuesday night, posted at McDonald’s on Wednesday. Not a whole lot of internet in Damascus, Va.**

Monuments, Part 1

I’m resurrecting the practice of building monuments. It seems no sooner do I see God provide that I turn from the provision to the next thing I fear will not be provided for. Foul humanity! A couple stone monuments, maybe one in each room, would help resolve my forgetfulness.

On a side note, as I type this entry in the backwoods of Virginia, I am the last one of nine still awake in a dark farmhouse. It’s just me, the sofa bed, and the flies that think my glowing computer screen is a bug zapper.

So here is my slightly less geological monument to God’s provision for my move to NYC. **Swats another fly off screen.** Through a series of events, I decided in June that August 13th would be moving day. Two weeks before that day, I was privileged to join a team from Heritage going to help the church in NYC that I am planning to be a part of. Not only did this give me the opportunity to interview for jobs , but also to get to know the people better and grow more excited about serving and with them. By the end of the week, I had one job offer, one prospective job, and a little less of the “what on earth am I doing?” feeling.

The final week home in Greenville, friends bearing boxes, Panera, Starbucks, and free labor helped me finish packing in half the time, allowing me to take care of some unfinished stuff at the magazines for a few days. I got to hang out with many dear friends, and my family got to meet most of them at a going away party on Sunday night. I think my mom cried more than I did–though I suppose that’s usual. And these friends blessed me with lots of advice, prayers, and tears. Not to mention some amazing gifts—thank you everyone!

Then, I sold my car the morning of departure—ideal timing because I pretty much needed wheels until I moved. Now I could scratch Ramen noodle off my grocery list.

And yet, as I stood crying in my little yellow bungalow at lunchtime on Monday, rental truck packed and family waiting, I once again doubted. “I still don’t know what’s up with my job or where I’ll stay permanently, and I will miss this place and these people more than I even know at this very moment.”

But a hodgepodge of verse parts came to me. It’s not the way to put together a sermon, but it sure was consoling to dwell on phrases like “steadfast love” and “dealt bountifully with me” and “count it all joy” during that time. Throw in humming, “The King of love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never…” and I was doing something very near to meditating.

We arrived in Virginia for a few days of vacation. I would either leave Wednesday by myself to drive to NYC and start my second choice job on Thursday, or I would hear from my first choice magazine with an offer. And I did on Tuesday. I will be starting as a magazine designer on Monday, August 27th, allowing me to spend some time with my family beforehand.

Each of these stones, these ordained appointments, have rested one on the other to form a reminder monument for me. I do not fool myself into thinking life will always be orchestrated so pleasingly. God would be no less good if He hadn’t worked out any of these things. And if it all seems to fall apart, He is still a God worthy of monuments. I may not always be able to recognize situations as stones in some future pillar. But I hope looking on past ones will spur me to faith in their eventual existence.