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.
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.