Chapter 11:12 - Going to the Big Apple


I was brushing my teeth tonight, getting ready for bed and thinking about this blog post. I was trying to figure out of it would be infringing on copy rights to name this series the New York Times. I decided it probably is and I should come up with some catchy phrase on my own. Then I wondered why. Why do I care if people read this? Why do I care about words and feelings and life? I don’t know. I just know I can’t do surface. I go deep or I don’t go at all. So yes, this series is about my stay in the Big Apple, but it won’t be a light travel journal with food and hotel reviews if that’s what you were hoping to read. This first one is being written at 12.00 in the morning, on the rec room couch in Southern Ontario. It’s cold and smells like chickens outside. I’m not in New York. But that’s part of the journey. The getting ready leading up to part.
 It was Saturday, Dec 29 when I got an email wondering if I would consider going to New York. It was unexpected, since I wasn’t planning to go for about half a year yet. I almost said no. I didn’t have the money, I had too many responsibilities at home, and I was scared. But a week later I had said yes, and the Perspectives course was coming in the mail. And then I started second guessing. And it felt like everything in my life started ending. I clearly remember one night, I was curled up on my chair crying, Dad was sitting on my bed and he looked at me and said, “Bethany, the devil often fights the hardest just before a big victory.” So I worked my three jobs, I went to church and youth, I studied till I nearly went cross eyed, and I smiled and said I was excited. One night mom looked at me, bless her soul, and said “What’s stressing you out?” “What do you mean...?” I asked. “Well,” she said, “whenever you’re stressed out you sleep, and you’ve been doing nothing but sleeping this whole week.” She wasn’t exaggerating. I would forget to eat or fall back into my compulsive stress eating habits. There seemed to be no happy medium. I cried over everything. Or nothing at all. The tears just came and I couldn’t stop them. My lack of control of my emotions freaked the daylights out of me. Bethany is always able to fake it. Smile and wave. Be ok. I’m always able to pray through it, shake it off, or deal with it. But this time I felt like I was watching life happen at a distance, and yet I was in the middle of a hurricane with blurry vision. I’ve changed. If there is anything 2019 has taught me so far, it’s that if you aren’t resilient and full of faith, you’ll never make it.
“Lately, I’ve been the quiet one”
Today is Friday and I leave for New York City tomorrow morning. I finished the Perspectives course. God gave me grace and determination to get it done. I had a bank meeting to adjust for my unemployment while I’m gone. God provided the money. Everything is winding down to the last few days, God’s grace has always been sufficient, and still, I am so frightened. This extrovert has become shy and backwards. I’m scared to meet new people and try new things. I haven’t even pulled out my suitcase to begin packing yet. Jesus is just chuckling because He knows the whole long dramatic story from beginning to end, all I can see is where I’m standing right now. He is asking me to look up at Him with the faith of a child, grab hold of His hand, and walk through this with Him. So I am. I already know I will come home a different girl. I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ll recognize that Bethany either. But I’m cool with that because it’ll be an even better version of Christ in me than before. Maybe to you this post is pointless. But I want to be able to look back and remember the tears and anxiety and prayers that went into this journey. And what got me through. I want to be able to remember the people, places, events, and circumstances that changed me. So welcome. Thank you for joining me in the series I’ve decided to call, Chapter 11:12. Because life doesn’t cater to the dreamers. I’m not here with it all together, full of Faith, going out on missions. I’m actually scared and I want a nap. But “comfort zone” and “God’s will” don’t work well together. So I’m jumping off the cliff, knowing full well I will likely end up going splat at the bottom, but so be it. Huh, maybe that’s just a different way of describing Faith. Anyway, the only thing that matters is that I offer my life as a living sacrifice, for HIS service. The other stuff can fly away in the chicken air. ✌🏼


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