I remember my first and last night in New York clear as day. The first time was in early high school, and the city was just a stop along the way to our family vacation in New England. Despite the fact that it was 11 PM when we arrived at the hotel and that we would have an early start the next day, my dad wanted to take me to Times Square. We hailed a cab, craning our necks to see out the window as the spider web of constant construction, nighttime garbage piles on the curb, and ever-present mobs of people passed by. Apparently when you give a cab driver directions to “Times Square” they take it upon themselves to drop you literally in the middle of it, at the NYPD station to be exact. If you’ve ever been you know exactly where that is: in the heart of New York, and what feels like the entire world. I was then, and every time since then, mesmerized, dazed, and overwhelmed. The throb of lights and crowds and cars and noise and stores leaves you in a state of semi-panic. But it also pulls you in, the sheer liveliness of it so alluring. I’m no F. Scott Fitzgerald or Joan Didion, so I’ll refrain from trying to describe that je ne sais quoi of New York. But it’s no accident that writers flock to the city, marking success by their ability to encapsulate it in words. My friends know that New York was sometimes a struggle for me—it can be a very difficult place to live. But still, I recognize and have slowly come to love that very special quality about this place, that something that artists spend their whole life striving to capture, that life of the city. My dad treated us to Starbucks and we walked around, gazing up and often stumbling into people. A year or two later we would be back, this time on a perspective student’s weekend for The King’s College. More than even the first visit I was overwhelmed (that’s a common word in my dialogue about New York!). I think it was because this time the prospect of actually living here was on my mind. I remember leaving from my parent’s hotel and walking to a little Italian place, along 1st or 2nd Avenue in Midtown. My parents were cheerful and chatty, and all I could do was sullenly eat breadsticks while scooting my chair in closer and closer to the table because about a million people were buzzing around me and bumping me and didn’t even seem to care. Dinner was bland in comparison to the sheer volume of everything going on around me: dump trucks rumbling by, jack hammers drilling, fast city walker and slow tourists jostling for the same side-walk space, beeps, hums, and oh look my spaghetti is here, thanks. My poor little first-child, introverted, cautious brain was about to explode from over stimulation in just the short 2 hours it had spent in the city. God had a lot of growing up to do in me. And he used New York to do that. The people, places, teachers, and churches I grew to be a part of challenged and shaped me into the adult I now am. New York taught me about patience. I can’t count how many times public transit has “ruined” a morning or made me late to an appointment. New York taught me about confidence and courage. I learned about who I was, apart from my family or past. New York made me tough, and reiterated the importance of hard work. This place gave me true friends who have stuck by me through thick and thin. And New York softened my judgmental spirit by allowing me to interact with so many different people from so many walks of life. I came to sincerely value the fact that people can be themselves in the city, because no matter how crazy you may look, you aren’t the craziest person others have seen that day. There is a delightful anonymity here that allows you to blend in and just be—empty space to figure out who you are and what you are going to do with this life. By the end of my five years here I wasn’t so quick to assume, so quick to be discouraged, so quick to throw my hands up in defeat. Slower to anger, slower to despair, slower to fear. The Lord used a place that I would naturally shy away from to refine me, subduing my faults and sharpening my virtues and talents. I can look back and see how maturity blossomed in the crammed subway rides and stressful shopping trips to Trader Joes, where lines for the check out stretched through the store, out the front door, and down the sidewalk. I can see how those tearful confrontations from dear friends—awful in the moment—showed me how to be a better friend and solidified my confidence in those relationships. I can see how being nudged ever so gently out of my comfort zone and into high stress college workloads, and deadline-oriented jobs, and lots of large social gatherings made me better. Being stretched is uncomfortable. But it’s good. The Lord is gentle in the way he teaches us. Sometimes I felt like I could not bear to live in this place one more day; it felt like too much—too many people, too much filth, TOO MUCH. But then I’d go for a walk to the Hudson River and see the sunset and the waves, or find a shady park bench in Madison Square Park, or witness a small kindness of a stranger, buying a meal for a homeless person, and I would be reminded of the Lord’s faithfulness. He was and is faithful to refresh my spirit. Faithful to provide. Faithful to give wisdom and perspective. Faithful to send people into my life. My last day in the city couldn’t have been more different than my first. My heart was calm. I spent the day with my husband, eating a leisurely brunch, strolling the Upper West Side, and then taking a nap in the sun in Central Park. We watched a kick ball game. We bought roasted nuts from a food stand. We pretended to shop at Bloomingdales but were really just looking for the bathrooms. I felt peaceful and at home, one of many thankful to have fallen in love with this place and had the privilege to call it home.
2 Comments
5/10/2016 01:22:55 pm
You make me almost miss it :) I know you're going to love NC and I'm so excited for the two of you!
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Grandma B
5/12/2016 04:58:25 pm
Said so well...... I remember some of those felling over my first 'living in the city' experience. Columbus is no ways near NYC, but it felt pretty overwhelming at times!
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Authorwife to a med student and mama to three under three, seeking the joyful and learning to live by faith. Find me on Instagram and Pinterest or shoot me an email. I'd love to hear from you!
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