Lulled by the Train

I have roughly 24 hours left in New York. I have a slew of plans for the rest of the day, but for now, this morning, I'm sitting in my living room, drinking a big mug of coffee and watching my favorite movie in all the world, You've Got Mail.

I first saw You've Got Mail on my 17th birthday, and I fell in love with it immediately. The movie, like Kathleen Kelly's mother, is simply put - enchanting. The charm, the romance... Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks as their most lovely selves... the soundtrack, the dialogue. I just love it.

But my favorite thing about You've Got Mail has always been New York City itself. It casts the city in the most romantic of lights, from the Upper West Side brownstones to Riverside Park to the bookstores and coffee shops and bakeries that make the city come alive. From the moment I saw this movie, I had a dream. To live in in this magical world that I loved from the jump.

And I did. For 3 1/2 glorious, wonderful, challenging, beautiful years.

Over the last few weeks, I've been reflecting on the Ebenezers in my life - pivotal points God placed in my New York experience that remind me of his faithfulness, sovereignty and love. It has just been so sweet to remember how he got me here, how he prepared the way for a friend, how he placed me in a job that meant more to me than I could have ever imagined, and how he orchestrated minute details of my schedule over the course of 5 years to bring me new roommates and a new apartment when I needed both.

So why? Why do I mention my love for You've Got Mail? Why do I tell you intricate stories of my Ebenezers? And why did I move to New York in the first place?

Because these are all pieces of the story. God's story. And it's a story of hope.

I have tears streaming down my face now, not out of sadness for leaving the city tomorrow (although I am sad), but out of a sense of being... overwhelmed... at the unbelievable love of God. I had a dream, a dream that God started stirring in my heart when I was 12, a dream that he continued stirring and growing and fertilizing for the next 11 years...including when I first saw and fell in love with You've Got Mail.

And now, I am more convinced than ever that God planted the dream and orchestrated the details for a reason. Because he loves me.

Of course, I think there have been other reasons too. He used the city to grow my faith. He used the city to make me brave. And I hope and pray that he used me in the city to make a difference in at least one life. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he gave me the dream and planned my steps because he takes great delight in me and loves me more than I could ever comprehend. What a precious truth. What a precious God.

I hope you will be reminded that this God - the God who directed me to a soup kitchen in Atlanta and a particular table at Buckhead Church GroupLink and who closed the door at a job that I wanted desperately and took me to Serendipity for a frozen hot chocolate one summer night - is still determining my steps, your steps, our steps. And regardless of our circumstances, or feelings, or disappointments, his character never changes. He is faithful. He is in control. He works everything out for good. He has a hope and a future in store for each of us. And he loves us. Oh, how he loves us.

So have hope. Have a bold, audacious, qavah hope. Courageously cling to that hope, and remember that no dream is too big, no problem too difficult, no obstacle to challenging for him to overcome. Find hope in his goodness, his kindness, his mercy and his love. Because the God who created heaven and earth, the God who parted the Red Sea and tore down the walls of Jericho, the God who sent his Son to redeem us on a cross, is the same God who gave me a dream to move to New York and then made it happen. And he is alive and at work today in my life and in yours.

In You've Got Mail, when Kathleen decides to close her store, Birdie gives her this advice:

"Closing the store is the brave thing to do...You are daring to imagine that you could have a different life."

I know to some, moving to New York in the first place was the bravest move of all. But not for me. This city is my heart, and I could no more deny God's call to move here than I could choose not to breathe or blink. I don't know what the Lord has next for me. I know that it involves living in Atlanta and working at Chick-fil-A, but beyond that, it's a mystery. But as I dare to imagine a different life beyond this city, I am not afraid. I am not apprehensive. No. I am full of hope. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who was and is and is to come, will continue to be faithful, and I can't wait to see what's in store.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me for the last three and a half years. It has been a joy to be lulled by the train with you.