A One-Way Ticket

I write this from a Southwest Airlines flight, somewhere over the southeast United States. For the first time in my life, I bought a one-way airplane ticket. One way to Nashville, Tennessee. One way means this move is really happening—there’s no turning back.

When I flew over the island of Manhattan at 7:30 this morning, it was for my final time as a New York City resident. My license, my voters ID card, my library card, my mailing address—all have got to go. A new chapter is upon me.

I’ve lived in this city for just about four years. I knew after interning here in college that this was the place for me, in all its busyness and hustle and coffee-soaked dreams. I would be a magazine editor. I’d work at a women’s glossy and climb my way to the top, racking up free beauty products, fashion closet giveaways, and exclusive event invites along the way.

I’d see my name in lights—or rather, inside the pages of my favorite monthly magazine as a member of the masthead, a valued editor and regular contributor. I would not only meet but exceed the potential I was told I had in journalism school. I’d go beyond everyone’s expectations of me. I’d put that journalism degree to work and demonstrate the definition of success. If I could make it in New York City, I could make it anywhere.

And make it, I did. Magazine job, check. Manhattan apartment, check. Nights on the town, check. In some ways, I felt like a young Carrie Bradshaw (minus the Manolos and walk-in closet). Life wasn’t perfect by any means. But I was living the life I’d envisioned, a life I wanted others to see and admire. I felt good.

Around year two, things shifted. I lost my magazine job as the publication folded. New relationships blossomed while others faded away. The biggest shift: Old destructive habits resurfaced and my restrictive eating tendencies came back into play. I was relapsing in my recovery. I knew my life had to change.

I became more intrigued by church and my Christian community. I started to really hear what living for Christ meant. God placed a few women in my life who came alongside me in all the messiness. They loved me and showed me how life could change with a relationship with Jesus at the center. The more I invested in the Lord, the more parts of life that didn’t really matter began to fall away. His hand was on me then—and I saw how it had always been. He was calling me to a life of serving Him, loving Him, and ordering all other loves after Him. Slowly but surely, work took on new meaning. I no longer defined success as climbing the top of the career ladder. Work was a way to use my gifts to further His kingdom. The allure of the Carrie Bradshaw life lost its luster. I craved a simpler, quieter, and more peaceful existence. And God amazingly provided that in the craziness that is NYC.

For every year I spent here, I felt Him asking me to root in. He wanted me here. That was clear. So then why the move away?

Because I believe He is calling me to Nashville, Tennessee. It’s that simple and that complex.

I’ve known for a while that New York City wasn’t the place I wanted to stay forever—but I was open to that possibility should God ask me to. I continued to invest in New York. I called this city my home. I made friends here who are like family. I became a Believer here. It’s a place close to my heart.

I knew I’d need a clear and bold call from God in order to leave it. And that’s exactly what God did.

A year ago, God brought a man into my life who selflessly loves me and encourages me in my walk with Him. This man has done so despite 888 miles between us. As we grew in our relationship, Nashville—his home—became more of a reality for me. Yet I wasn’t convinced. How would I know if this was the right choice? How would I leave behind the community and passions the Lord cultivated in me in New York? I prayed about it almost daily. We prayed about it as a couple and sought counsel from those far wiser than us.

My journal entries for the past few months reflect this longing to know what would be next:

"God, place me where you will use me most."

"Father, help me listen to your call. I pray you light my steps. Grant me wisdom and confidence in my decisions, always running toward you."

"Father, I pray for trust in your plan. Help me trust in you. You have me in New York City, in this particular job, in this long-distance relationship, for a reason. You’re growing me and showing me more of your goodness. I praise you for that. Give me courage and help me to listen to your call for me. I need clarity in it, but I trust you to direct me. Help me to surrender, to find true freedom in you."

"Lord, keep me humble, keep me small, keep me reliant on you. I pray you place me where you’re going to use me most. Grand me wisdom and clarity in my decision-making. Help me to trust you and surrender to you in all things. I pray for protection in this process and for peace. I praise you, Lord. Amen."

The prayers poured out of me.

In August, God pointed me to a job at a church in the Nashville area. I was on the church’s website, looking around and about to listen to a sermon. Somehow I found myself on their jobs page—with a communications position staring right back at me. As I read through the job description, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Communications, marketing, social media, storytelling, ministry. The job seemed to be describing me. I applied immediately, and I interviewed on the phone three days later. I’ve never felt quite so encouraged, believed in, and supported during an interview. (And I’ve had some wonderful jobs and bosses.) My potential employer had read through my blog, even my testimony. He told me how it was an encouragement to him and how I clearly have a gift.

My excitement for the position grew. I completed an edit test and more interviewing. I prayed, and I journaled. I talked to those closest to me. I also doubted. I doubted that this was the right job for me. I doubted that I would be able to make a decent living in this role. I doubted that I would like the city, the church, the culture. I doubted a lot of things—all things that ultimately don’t mean anything if this is where God wants me. If this was God’s will, He would provide.

I was offered the job in a phone call a mere two weeks later. Not only that, but God went above and beyond in providing a salary, a title, and all the other material benefits of a job that I had hoped for. As I listened to my future boss offer me the job and explain why he wanted me on the team, I burst into tears. I cried the sort of crocodile tears that run down your chin and neck and smear your mascara. The tears that make a passerby stop to give you an entire tissue box (yes, really). I sweat completely through my shirt, and I felt like I might throw up. My reaction was one of pure joy, excitement, and disbelief. I was overwhelmed with God’s goodness in providing for me in every single way. I couldn’t quite believe the offer was real.

I went to visit the church and meet my potential colleagues that weekend. As happy as I was, I’ll be honest: I was uncomfortable. This Southern church is the complete opposite of how I grew up and totally different from my home in New York City. I wasn’t sure I’d fit in. I wasn’t convinced this was the best move for me because it was such a stark contrast to what I was used to. Leaving a great life behind seemed crazy.

This all felt crazy.

But the more I prayed, the more I understood how God wanted me to take a step of obedience. He wanted me to boldly walk in faith and courage. He’d be there with me through it all. He orchestrated it to begin with. All summer, I’d been leading women through a book study of Wild and Free—and how we can only live that way through Christ. This job opportunity is about as wild and free as it gets. God opened a door for me in a major way. It was time for me to go through it.

So on September 5, I accepted that job. I made the decision to move across the country—for a job, for love, and ultimately, for Jesus.

God has provided for me abundantly since then. He brought my roommate and me a great girl to take over my room in our apartment. He helped me sell all my furniture. He opened up my best friend’s schedule, allowing her a whole Saturday to travel from Pennsylvania and spend with me in the city. He gave me brothers in Christ who used their muscle to help me pack up and ship 50-pound boxes with all my belongings. He opened up a one-bedroom apartment for me that’s 15 minutes away from work, 15 minutes away from my favorite coffee shop downtown, and 10 minutes away from the man I love. He connected me with trustworthy car dealers to help facilitate that next step in the moving process. He gave me time to leave my job well and bid farewell to friends in the city.

God has tied up all the seemingly loose ends in a matter of three weeks’ time. The crazy decision to move doesn’t seem so crazy any more.

I’ve cried only a little bit about the move, and I praise God for that. My excitement is pure and deep. I know there will be growing pains with moving here. I know there will be moments of “What am I doing?”, times when I feel out of place in the South, when I dislike living in an apartment by myself, when I wish I could just walk to a coffee shop without getting in my car. But I believe in my heart God wants me to press into those feelings of uncomfortableness. I am not here by accident. God has me placed me exactly where He wants me to be, where He will use me most. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord.  

I can see the landscape of Tennessee as we fly closer. It’s beautiful. 

“Folks, we should be touching down in about 15 minutes. Weather in Nashville is a little bit of misty skies but nothing too terrible, temperature of about 78 degrees Fahrenheit. We’ll be on the ground momentarily.”

Okay, Nashville, I’m ready for you.

There Is A Season For Everything

Seasons come and go. Change is a natural part of life. The world ebbs and flows, and we have the choice to move with it or swim against the tide. I’ve experienced plenty of change during my time in New York City. All the geographical changes of the past 3.5 years alone are enough to make my head spin:

In December 2012, I packed my entire life into my 2001 Ford Taurus and moved from small-town Pennsylvania to the heart of Brooklyn, where I stayed on a friend’s air mattress for six weeks. Eventually, I found my first official New York City apartment and roommate through Craigslist. Fast forward almost two years later, and I moved again. This time to a three-month sublet in a new neighborhood with a new (random) roommate. At the end of that stint, I moved into another new place in yet another neighborhood with two more new roommates. Six months later, one roomie got married (yay!) and a friend of a friend took her spot in the apartment. This year, that friend of a friend—now my friend—and I found our very own two-bedroom—hooray! I signed my name on my own New York City lease for the first time. And despite the six floor walkup situation, I’m happy.

In the midst of these physical changes, the community around me changed just as much. New community in each new location. As I came into my own as a woman and learned more about who I am (and who Jesus is), my circle of friends shifted, too. I think that’s a perfectly normal and healthy part of life. We’re often scared to lose people, but sometimes we’re not really losing them. We’re both moving forward in different directions.

New friendships developed when I moved here, and those new people became my family. That’s the thing about New York: Most of us aren’t from the city. When you meet your people, they can become your lifeline. They make the city less of a crazy place and more of a home. My community in New York is a gift, and I firmly believe people come into our lives at certain times for a reason. Yes, they might leave our lives, but I know it’s no coincidence that they ended up in contact with us in the first place.

Last week, I said “see you soon” to my best friend in New York City. She and her husband and their one-and-a-half-year-old have moved on to a new adventure in Austin, Texas, and I couldn’t be more excited for them. (Read their story here—totally worth it.)

It feels as though I’m in an extended season of bidding farewell to friends.

Anyone who has lived in New York for at least a few years knows what I’m talking about. Since year one of living in this city, I have bid farewell to five dear friends, and attended more goodbye parties than I can count. Moving is the nature of the beast that is NYC. I had to push past the initial feeling that I was being abandoned or that I was making a mistake by continuing to hold down the fort in the Big Apple. Those are lies.

These friends were in my life for a reason, for a season. God has taught me something through each relationship. He uses the people around you to mold you and make your who you are today. I know the Lord has used my moves, my heartbreaks, my friendships, and my falling in love to show me more of Him. For that, I am so grateful.

The Lord uses us where we are, with what we have. There’s a season for everything. He’s working at all times for our good. That brings me great comfort.

Sometimes we’re in a season of stability, security, and lots of friends around us. But that’s not always the case. I’m in a season now that’s in flux, one in which my dearest friends are scattered throughout the country. It’s a time of change, but also growth, maturity, and peace. A season that looks like a little bit more alone time is not necessarily a bad thing. I’m learning that being by myself doesn’t mean being lonely or depressed. At times it might seem that way, but I know at this point in my life, there’s great value in spending time with just me.

““There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens… God has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him…””

— Ecclesiastes 3

Everything God does will endure forever.

This is a season of independence—yet total dependence on God. I can feel He is close, helping guide me through wave after wave of change. The passage is a reminder that a season is temporary—we have no idea what God has in store for us next. That’s amazing and scary and awe-inspiring all at the same time.

I’ve been thinking over this idea of seasons of life, and how I am in a season with fewer friends directly around me. Did you know that, although Jesus had 12 apostles and even more disciples, he had just three besties? Peter, James, and John. Those were his bros, the guys he developed a deeper relationship with than anyone else. Even Jesus knew he couldn’t have a million best friends around him at all times.

We’re called to be a friend, to live in community, and to make disciples. But we’re not called to have dozens of friends on our social calendar at all times, or to amass 500 Facebook friends, or to rack up thousands of Instagram followers. We’re wired for intimate relationships—to be a close friend to a few or even just one.

And more so, we’re made to be in the tightest knit friendship with Him.

I think about the story of David and Jonathan. Jonathan knit his soul to David. They became one in spirit. He loved David as he loved himself. That sort of friendship doesn’t happen overnight. It doesn’t happen at raucous house parties. That’s the friendship that comes in seasons of rest, in experiencing the ebbs and flows of life together, in trusting of ourselves, and trusting in the Lord.

I feel thankful for the few dear friends I have, even if they’re located hundreds of miles away. They’re people I can turn to for encouragement. Who can rebuke me and ask the hard questions. Who can work through a cycle of repentance and forgiveness with me. Who are loyal to me and I to them. Who want to pick up the phone to talk to me because they love me that much. Those are the friends we are asked to be and asked to walk in step with.

This is truth I’ve only come to realize because I’m in a season with fewer friends around me. And you know what? It is okay. I’m okay with that. It’s made me grateful for the sweet friends I have and relationships I’ve developed over the years. Not to mention I almost always have a place to stay when I am traveling. But most of all, this season has reminded me that He is the best friend there is. No matter what the season of life I am in looks like, He’s present, he’s active, and he’s working. 

The Importance of Prayer

I haven’t blogged in three weeks. Seventeen days, to be exact. I haven’t blogged because I haven’t been writing. I haven’t journaled. And if I’m being completely honest, I haven’t really been praying either. Not really. Not the kind of prayers where I’m alone and talking aloud to God because He’s my best friend and I want to tell him what’s up. I’ve been doing a lot more of the “God, let me go down this list and tell you what I need as quickly as I can because I’ve got other things to do.”

As Tim Keller writes in his book, Prayer:

"When life is going smoothly, and our truest heart treasures seem safe, it does not occur to us to pray."

Keller nailed it; that’s me. I think some of us pray more when life is going smoothly because we’re grateful and want to thank God for what He’s given us. But in my typical experience, I pray more when I’m struggling. I selfishly see good times as the result of my own doing. I treat God like a genie who I need to grant me my wishes during hardship.

I can easily forget about spending time with God when I don’t feel a physical need for Him. When I think everything is good, and I have a handle on my life, I place God on the back-burner. I’m not experiencing an immediate need, so I let Him fade away while I focus on my life and the good things in it—entirely forgetting He’s the one who supplied all those good things in the first place. He gives and He can take away. And both are for my good.

My life is going really well right now. It feels stable, healthy, full. My prayer life has fallen flat.

And in these past three weeks, I experienced some movement in my life. Things are changing and evolving. It’s very exciting; it’s also nerve-wracking. I began to feel overwhelmed, fearful, and doubtful. I longed for ultimate security and confidence in my decisions. I wanted God to shine a flashlight down on me, illuminating the right path and darkening everything else.

Friends kept encouraging me to make decisions by following God’s call for my life. To listen to Him and walk in His way. That wise advice only made me more frustrated and stressed out. I wasn’t hearing God speak to me or light my way. So then I became increasingly stressed out and doubtful in God’s goodness.

God, I just want to hear your voice and know exactly what to do. I don’t understand why you aren’t making things abundantly clear to me.

Perhaps because I wasn’t actually spending time in conversation with Him or in His word.

“Pray without ceasing.”

— 1 Thessalonians 5:17

Without solid prayer and time with God, I became more anxious and overwhelmed. I prioritized other things above prayer. If I wasn’t hearing from God with direct and easy answer, then what was the point? But of course I won’t hear from God if I don’t talk to Him on a regular basis. How can He listen and help me when I won’t tell him what’s going on? That’s not much of a relationship.

I’d sit down to read Scripture, but I wasn’t truly focusing. I wasn’t remembering what I read throughout the day. I was reading, checking it off my list, and moving on. I’m going through a “Bible in a Year” plan right now. I’m eight months in at this point. I am learning a lot by immersing myself in so much Scripture. Yet, I’ve begun to approach reading in a very task-orientated way, especially if I’m reading it on my phone. It’s something I do to accomplish, rather than to experience the full weight and depth of the Word. I can put prayer on my daily to-do list, I can listen to sermons, I can jam to worship music, and I can read encouraging blog articles until my heart's content. But those activities are all supplementary.

Without prayer, I got nothing.

Without an active, living relationship with The Lord, these other actions fall flat. The rest of life simply doesn’t make sense.

It took a time of some discomfort and anxiety to remind me of that. I understand that I won’t always hear God speak back to me. I may not receive crystal clear or direction from Him, but I can trust He’s there. That’s what makes prayer a form of faith. We have to believe He is present and working, even when we can’t see or hear Him in the present moment.

Keller writes,

"Prayer is both conversation and encounter with God... We must know the awe of praising His glory, the intimacy of finding His grace, and the struggle of asking His help, all of which can lead us to know the spiritual reality of His presence."

(Read Prayer. Seriously.)

Prayer is a blessing. We’re given the gift of prayer to communicate with God whenever we want. The God of the universe wants to talk to us all the time. Knowing that fills my heart with wonder and awe.

I could continue writing about the importance of prayer for another thousand words, but I don’t think you really need to read more from me on it. What you and I both need is to actually do it—to actually pray.

So this morning, I opened up my Bible. I read Galatians, and I thought through what I was reading. Then I got down on my knees and prayed. I told God where I’m at and how I want to hear from Him. I felt Him freeing me through that action. He took on my burdens and carried them so I wouldn’t have to. I’m telling you I felt a sense of lightness throughout this day that I haven’t had in the past 17. Because when I’m scared, worried, anxiety-ridden, or doubtful, God knows exactly what I need. Him.

Talk to Him.

Even if you’ve never before done it, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He won’t judge. In fact, he’s the best listener there is. Talk to Him and put it all out there. Trust me: His power through prayer is beyond your wildest dreams.

---

If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life. 

And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.

Truly, He makes beautiful things.

What Do You Do When You're Mad At God?

Hi Maggie,

I came across your blog after reading some of your work for Verily (all great stuff, btw!). As you can tell by the header, I'm wondering if you could shed some light on how you deal with anger and frustration with God. I've been a believer all my life, but lately I've been struggling in my conviction that God is really there looking out for me. Over the past couple years there have been some trials and setbacks in my personal life, and I've started to feel like God and I have more of a Charlie Brown and Lucy relationship—He puts the thing I want out in front of me and says, "Trust me," and when I decide to put myself out there and go for it, He yanks it away, and I'm lying face up on the ground with a ringing in my ears. Suffice it to say, it's become difficult for me to choose trusting Him lately. I've started to go to church less and less and have pretty much stopped praying because I feel like there's no point—that He either doesn't listen or doesn't care.

I know it's partly on me because while He is all-powerful, I'm not entitled to anything FROM Him, and yet I can't help but feel upset at Him for placing these desires in my heart and never allowing them to be fulfilled or come to fruition. I'm curious as to if you've ever felt this way and what you've done to deal with it and gain perspective. And in the long term, what made it possible for you to start trusting him again? I'm hoping that in everything you've learned in your journey thus far, you'd have some words of wisdom for a fellow traveler. Thanks!

Michael

---

Hi Michael,

First of all, thank you for writing. Thank you for having the courage to ask a hard question. I’m encouraged by your desire to turn back to God and trust Him again.

Now… Have I ever felt this way before? Yes, absolutely. Safe to say most if not all of us have felt this way at some point or another on the journey. We get these ideas in our heads of what life is supposed to look like, of how our days are meant to go, and how our plans are surely going to work out the way we envision them. We craft, and we tinker. We create, and we build. We think we know exactly what we need, when we need it, and how it's going to come about perfectly for us. And God gives us free will. He allows us to make decisions and to choose a path when we reach a fork in the road.

But, Michael, I have to tell you: Our plans are not always God's plans.

Anger at God can come on so suddenly. Be it a relationship ending, shattered job hopes, financial insecurity, the onset of illness, death of a loved one, or even the current state of our broken world—these things affect us and can quickly alter our view of God. Our circumstances are always changing. God remains the same—He is a good, good Father regardless of how we feel about Him or the unique situation we find ourselves in.

I have been thinking about your question a lot, Michael. When was I mad at God? I thought about relationships. A time when I felt like God was teasing me. Last year, I was dumped by someone I briefly dated. This man appeared to check off all the boxes as a fellow Believer who seemed to have his life together and who seemed to pursue me honestly. When things ended, it was very clear to me that he was not the right man for me. And yet, the breakup was a test of my faith. Why did God bring this person into my life and give me a sense of hope only to rip it away? Like you said, He put this thing in front of me, and I began to go for it. I allowed myself to open up again. As soon as I did, it was over. I felt foolish. I felt used. And I felt disappointed in God.

I spent time in His Word and in prayer. I journaled so, so much. I think the best thing I did was honestly talk to God. I was open with Him about how I felt. I told him I was upset and sad. I lamented. So tell him how you feel, Michael. Cast your anxieties on Him because He cares for you. He’s not looking at you like, Ha! Sorry Michael, you lost your chance. I dangled this thing in front of you and then took it away from you because you don’t deserve it. I want you to suffer.

God’s job is not to make us suffer.

He doesn’t create suffering. Remember that part of Genesis where God looks out on His creation and calls it good? That still holds true today. His creation is good and for our good. He did not intend for suffering to be a part of this world, but because of the fall in the garden of Eden, it is. We are broken people and we live in a broken environment. That wasn’t God’s intention for us. That’s why we’ll experience disappointment, doubt, fear, and sadness. We’re going to distrust God because of it.

He is still good.

A major turning point in my faith was recognizing that God doesn’t create suffering, but he allows it. That’s so important for us to remember. Suffering is not part of His design. The great news is He uses it to bring us closer to Him and bring glory to His kingdom. Christ suffered to an unthinkable degree—far more than we ever will. Our troubles here on earth are momentary afflictions. We can hope because Christ already came, died, and rose for us.

Before I was a Believer, I went through a time of serious depression and illness. I was caught in the throes of an eating disorder, and I hit rock bottom. By all medical and physical accounts, I should have died. It’s truly a miracle I survived after punishing my body and engaging in such destruction. At that time, though, all I thought was, Why did this happen to me? Why am I suffering like this? I had to withdraw from my first semester of college—totally not part of the plan. I lost many of my friends. My life completely changed. I couldn’t comprehend why God would do that to me.

I can now confidently say He didn’t “do that to me” or want me, His beloved daughter, to endure tragedy. But He used that time to bring me close to Him. That’s the greatest testing of my faith I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t walking with Him then; He called me closer and closer to Him through the suffering. After my anger subsided, I didn’t know what else to do except to hope in Him.

Today I have an understanding of people and a merciful heart toward those who suffer that I did not have before all that happened. God’s used my experiences to strengthen my faith in Him. He’s showed me what really matters and to keep my eyes fixed on Him. It’s an extreme example, but perhaps you can relate to some part of it. He doesn’t need a near-death experience to fuel our faith; He uses even the smallest things in our lives.

Michael, I was talking about your question with my boyfriend, and he pointed me to Romans, specifically Romans 5. It’s a beautiful passage.

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

And that’s why we can trust in Him. That’s why we can believe He sees us, knows us, and cares for us.

No matter how wonderful the desires of our heart are, they do not compare to Christ. We get Him and His plan—it’s better than anything we can envision or long for here on earth. Any suffering we go through now simply doesn’t compare with the glory God has in store for us. Remember that. Keep telling yourself the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it or don’t really believe it. Ask God to pull your heart closer to Him once again—and watch as He does His work.

Praying for you,

Maggie

---

If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life. 

And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.

Truly, He makes beautiful things.