Just days before flying to Costa Rica in February, I accepted my first travel nursing position in St. Louis, Missouri. Believe me, this is not exactly the place I had in mind when I told my recruiter that I love to explore the outdoors, or that I wanted to stay somewhere in the southeast part of the country for travel conveniences. However, I had never planned on living in North Carolina for the past year either, so I figured God knew what He was doing when He opened the door for this opportunity too.
The last days in Costa Rica came and went in the blink of an eye, just as any “last days” often do. When the plane touched down in North Carolina, it was as if the whirlwind that had been forming behind the scenes was let loose. The next few days, weeks really, were emotionally draining. The first few days were fueled by an energy comparable to water out of the end of a fire hose. I couldn’t contain my excitement to see my friends, and even more so, my eagerness to share the details about my experience and the amazing ways God had worked in Costa Rica. However, it wasn’t long before my water supply seemed to be losing its strength. The reverse culture shock of coming back to our country, that had been masked by this energy, began to peek through. I was missing Costa Rica and the pure beauty of the simple happiness there. The true joy in conversation around the family dinner table there, verse the seemingly inevitable cell phone distraction around the table here, among much else. When I realized I needed to begin adding a “see you soon”, because I don’t do “good-byes”, to the end of my encounters, my water supply was down to a trickle. The relationships that I had formed over the last year, were suddenly going to face the battle of distance. The same relationships that supported me and encouraged me through what I see as the biggest transitional year of my life and the year when I experienced so much growth in my faith weren’t going to be a maximum of a fifteen-minute drive away. Phone calls instead of coffee shop meet-ups, facetimes instead of dinner and devotional nights with my best friend, sharing details about my most recent adventures instead of experiencing them together with friends. The worst part of all was knowing that in the natural course of relationships, some of them wouldn’t survive the distance. Packing up my room, hugging away my final “see you soons”, and physically pulling away from such a comfortable community was by no means easy, but less than a week after returning to the States, Silvia (my car) and I were on our way to a new home.
The whirlwind continued. I was approaching a new adventure. I would be meeting new people and exploring new grounds. I was about to start my career as a travel nurse, something I had had my eyes on for years. My excitement built as my tears faded and two days later it was time to unpack my bags yet again.
Having experienced such an amazing transition to North Carolina, and even knowing that it likely wouldn’t be as seamless, I was ready for this relocation. I was prepared to take the same approach that had worked so well for me last time; find a church, find a young adults group where I could meet new friends, and then fill the rest of my time accordingly. I spent my first few weeks here doing just that. I checked out a few churches, tested out some life groups, and even volunteered at an Easter event in an effort to get connected. Although the volunteer event did result in getting me connected with the church at which I currently attend, this experience taught me something far greater than having a consistent weekly service. I was searching so hard for a place to plant my roots here, that I neglected the strongest, furthest reaching roots that I could ever have; my relationship with God. I was spending all of my energy trying to put myself in what I thought was the right place with the right people. Even when I was tired, I was heading to another life group meeting just trying to find my fit as quickly as I could. Funny enough, looking back now, I can see that where I thought I needed to be was not at all where God knew I needed to be. The people I tried to surround myself with were not the people God planned to surround me with. After a few weeks of this tiring and frankly unsuccessful quest, I finally came to an important realization. I realized that every single transition was going to look different, not just for the obvious reasons of scenery and people, but because God has changed me and continues to do so. In North Carolina, He knew that I needed to be surrounded by a strong faith community. That community encouraged me on this journey; some walked with me, others guided me. Now, a year later, God has prepared me for a new transition, a different transition. He knows who I need, what I need, what I am prepared to face, where I need strengthened, what I need protected from, so on and so forth. Even more so, He knows what others need too. He knows when my path needs to cross theirs, so that they can be exposed to Him. He knows when they need a friend to get ice cream with at a lonely time, someone to provide encouragement on a tough day, an ear to listen in the midst of a whirlwind, or simply a new friend.
As much as I would like to say that this is the only lesson that God needed to teach me or rather re-teach me over the past three months, that would be the furthest thing from accurate. The whirlwind didn’t seem to end when I realized that this transition was going to be different. For the reasons above, amongst others, it took me a while to get my feet planted here. There have been multiple days in which I could’ve spent my energy in better ways, I have stumbled over the same rocks, I have experienced multiple ups and downs in feeling distant from my faith, and I have surely lost focus in my priorities time and time again. I’m not typing these things out as some type of confession or as a cry for help, but so that I can tell about the most beautiful part of my past three months. Every time I have misdirected my energy, stumbled, become distant, or lost track of my priorities, I have been quickly pointed straight back to my relationship with God. There has never been a large lapse in time before my true purpose as a wandering light comes back to the forefront of my mind. In the humorous manner of our God, this has frequently come by way of a perfectly timed text from a friend, as though God is again reinforcing that He has already surrounded me with the amazing love of so many friends.
I have often been encouraged to take the path less traveled or reminded that the path to heaven is narrow, just as we are told in Matthew 7:14. In coming here, I was striving to find this “path less traveled”, a path that would keep me far from the ways of the world. Honestly, my search for this pathway is essentially what resulted in distraction and poor prioritization. As I was hiking earlier this month, I was following along the path when I heard the sound of water nearby. Of course, being the person who can’t turn down a little extra adventure, I was quick to turn off of the path in search of the source. I walked across some rocks and pushed through some brush until I popped out on the other side to an amazingly peaceful view of the water running across a shallow bed of stones. In this moment, I felt like God was showing me that it’s okay to walk on the path that everyone else uses. In fact, He needs me to walk on that path, to walk beside everyone else doing this thing called life, yet like the sound of the water, He is always present. The peaceful view through the brush was a reminder that I can always jump off of the path to be refilled and refueled, in order to continue on this trek for Him and His glory. Just as my transitions will look different as God continues to work in my life, my walk on the path will change as well. Although I may be walking on the same route, I am walking with a new perspective, a new purpose, and a new destination.
This transition has not necessarily been what I envisioned, and it certainly hasn’t been as seamless and easy as the last, but it taught me many lessons to carry forward. My roots, although they may be physically uprooted and relocated many times in the near future, are well-nourished and growing stronger every day. The whirlwind has calmed as I have found true peace in walking on this path with the ever-present sound of rushing water.
Above all else, I recognize these few months as a time when I was able to be still and become content in walking alone with the Lord. I have had the opportunity and encouragement to dive deeper into scripture than ever before, growing further in my knowledge of Him. I have gained a greater appreciation for the people that God has placed along my journey thus far and my eagerness to continue building new relationships when given the opportunity to do so has been fully restored. I am also thankful to say that I will be leaving St. Louis with many new, great friends whose paths lined up with mine the past three months, providing many fun memories to carry along.
I can’t help but share about another outdoor experience I had this past week to wrap this up. A few nights ago, I went on a quick camping trip to get some fresh air, test out some new gear, and set myself up for a great hike the next morning. Of course, you can’t have a camping trip without a fire, so once I set up camp, I began to gather the things I would need to get the fire going. For the sake of time and my pride, I’ll leave out all the details of my struggle to get this fire started, but please note that it was the first time I had to start a fire completely alone. Please also note that I’m slightly afraid of fire, so matches were not the best “tool” of choice and playing with fire wasn’t exactly fun… not at first anyways. Anyhow, the twigs that I gathered eventually caught on fire, but it wasn’t long before they had nearly disintegrated and were taking my flame with them. I ran and gathered more twigs, knowing that it wasn’t yet hot enough for the larger pieces of wood to catch on fire. The process of me running to gather twigs, adding them to the fire, watching the bright yellow flame form, just to watch it quickly fade and send me running again cycled through a few times. In the midst of this I thought about how frustrating it would be for the flame to go completely out after I had worked so hard to maintain it in hopes of getting it to the point of maintaining itself for a while. I also imagined how rewarding it would be when all this hard work paid off and I could enjoy the warmth of the fire that I had worked so hard to create. Then it hit me. I pictured God looking down from heaven on the fire He has created in me. I pictured Him watching my flame fade and running to gather twigs to spark that bright yellow light in hopes that He could get me back to a point of maintaining myself for a little while. I pictured His smile and imagined His joy when He gets to sit and watch the fire that He created in me. Although I may stumble, get distracted, or fail to prioritize, I am determined to keep this fire burning bright. I am confident that He won’t let my flame go out, no matter how many times He has to run and gather twigs, and neither will I.
Good stuff. Needed to read this one tonight:) Thanks for sharing!