So this is hope
“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”
— C.S. Lewis (The Silver Chair)
I’ve done my fair share of crying since I arrived here in Nashville. Everything about this transition has felt so different (i.e. worse) than I expected, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure that I was going to stay for very much longer. My parents have a big, empty basement in Kansas, and although a decision to live with them would essentially be to enter a menagerie (there are 4 large, long-haired dogs in that house, not to mention the fact that it’s ANT SEASON in the Midwest), the appeal of free rent and someone else to make the coffee sure sounds good sometimes.
But this week, I have felt differently.
Attribute it to the fact that I feel like I am finally establishing a routine here. Or that I’ve decided that my job isn’t half-bad. Or that I now know how to get to Target, Ross, and at least 5 wine shops. Or that I’m back to walking 6+ miles each day. Or that I heard that Trader Joe’s is arriving in September. Or that I’m scheduled to record some demos in May.
Ironically, you might even credit the fact that in my life, Cupid tends to work for the devil.
(I joke…
But seriously, he does.)
All of those reasons, marinated in the truth that God gives strength to the weary and hope to the hopeless, have added up to a revitalized version of Annie – a form of myself that I haven’t seen since probably mid-November. I am experiencing a surge of expectation and contentment.
Weird. But welcome.
And so I roll out my new welcome mat at my front door to greet Miranda tonight. This is my new city. This is “home.” At least for now.
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I heard it in your voice yesterday, Annie – the spark of hope that we all so desperately need. I’m glad you are in this place. Great post.
Mom
It’s one thing to be able to live confidently, stridently, verbally, hopefully, happily, decisively. . . when things are going your way.
But those who get up and get dressed and put one foot in front of the other when they’re wracked with depression. . . and chart a direction and follow it and take hope in the process and generate enough energy to dream again, even a little. . . now that’s courage. And if anyone were honestly to want to know who you REALLY are, then there, there it is.
I have never been more proud of you.
Dad
Have a great time with Miranda, Annie. Let’s catch up soon. I’ve been thinking of you and praying for you constantly.
your blogstalking reputation has preceded you. i knew it was only a matter of days before your name popped up on my blog.
if there were 3 things i truly cared about in this world, they would be:
1. girls
2. clothes
3. girls clothes.
good to meet blog meet you ms. parsons.
nick
ant season in the midwest? are you aware that nashville is a part of that same area? not that i am telling you you should move home. because i think nashville holds great things for you. just saying.
Becca, I have yet to see a single ant in my apartment. A cockroach? Well, there has been one.
(You should have heard my 7am scream – “blood-curdling” pops to mind)