I haven’t written a blog post in a while.
I’m sure you noticed… if not during the past few months, then you’ve certainly realized it now. The central reason for that is, in short, my journey into adulthood. I’m not talking about learning how to provide for myself, necessarily; that transition wasn’t too drastic. I’m referring to the facet of adulthood that a lot of graduates don’t even expect: a major decrease in one’s social life.
You see, something I’ve been learning for the past year and a half is how to find peers as an adult. In school, friends are easy to find because you’re obligated to sit for six hours in the same room with twenty other people that are your age. You go to college and can live in a dorm and hang out in buildings that are filled with nothing but teenagers. But in adulthood, sometimes you’re lucky to be working at a job that has at least one person your age, let alone a handful.
This was especially hard for me to get used to because I grew up in a large family and then spent four years in a massive dorm; I’m used to having people around all the time. And it’s not just because I’m an extrovert; I have a lot of introverted tendencies, too. I need massive doses of alone-time every day to recharge my emotions. Many people will tell you that when I’m around the house, I’ll often go hours without saying a word to anyone or looking up from my own work. But I still like having the option of putting aside inanimate objects in exchange for a real conversation. I need relationships. Even if you want to claim that you yourself don’t need others, people are constantly changing, and therefore they are life’s only real reliable form of entertainment. Half of the things I’m passionate about were introduced to me by other people.
Why am I rambling on about this? Because I came to Atlanta and knew that I was going to be lonely unless I plugged in. So I did. And one of the central places that I looked to invest myself was in a church. The trouble was, I ended up falling in love with two very different churches. Both have very Biblical teachings, which was my first priority… and since one of them has an evening service, I was able to attend both on any given Sunday for a long time. But I always had that nagging feeling that I should pick one.
Now, having moved homes as many times as I have, I’ve learned that the best way to feel at home in a church is to start serving in it. Almost immediately after finding the first church (a near-mega-church in central Atlanta, with countless young adults and amazing worship), I volunteered to join their media team and operate a shoulder-mounted camera on the stage crew. Within weeks, working on the camera crew became one of my favorite parts of the week; I was working with professionals, meeting with young adults, building some great friendships, and I was able to use my passion for film in the worship services and minister to countless people through a camera. I got a lot of compliments on my work, too, which really kept my chin up when I was between jobs.
The other church that I found could hardly be more different. It’s a small bilingual church closer to where I live, barely more than twenty people on a full day. They actually meet in a school cafeteria, rather than their own building, and there are only about four singles there (including me). And yet for all that it lacked in appearance, I fell in love with it and started many relationships there as well.
For several months, I attended both churches: one in the morning, one in the evenings. I could never quite escape the nagging feeling that I needed to choose one, but for a long time I simply couldn’t choose — and I didn’t have to choose.
As Autumn rolled in, I started a two-month internship with a post-house called Outback Editorial, where I got to observe the making of commercials firsthand. It was a fun experience, though not much different from being a PA. I realize now that I never really blogged about it… (I’m not sure why. Maybe I’ll get on that soon.) I also met an amazing woman in Atlanta who publishes Hers Magazine, and she took me on for a while to write some feature articles and construct online surveys for her readers.
But as time passed, I felt myself stretched more and more in multiple directions. BSF (Bible Study Fellowship International) started in September. My work hours at Outback were longer than they had been previously with Spitfire Studios. Not drastically different, but enough that I could feel a strain. My commitment to write for Hers, when piled upon my previous commitment to write blogs for The Fangirl Initiative, gave me little “free time” left once the work hours and church activities were all over.
Eventually, as my work for different groups grew poorer and poorer, I realized that my thirst for human company had turned me into an over-committer: something I never was in high school or college. But now that I’d spent a few months in Atlanta, meeting new people wasn’t the problem anymore: it was building stronger relationships with the people that I had met.
In fact, my schedule only got more full when I took a new job once the internship ended. (That in itself is an incredible story which deserves its own blog post.) I’m currently working full-time with a studio that does more corporate videos than films, but I actually feel like I’m a vital part of my workplace now. I’ve been able to help edit footage and write scripts, and the nagging fear of inadequacy that’s lurked over me all summer is finally gone. It’s a phenomenal job and I absolutely love it… it’s just that, with rush-hour traffic, this dream-job is an unfortunate hour away from home on any given day, and that has taken a ton of time off my plate.
Beginning in October, I had to start reaching out to my different commitments and confess that I was doing them a disservice by continuing the way things were. I didn’t have enough time. Soon the weight on my shoulders lessened and lessened, until the only major decision that I had left was… which church should I pursue?
With no clear answer before me, I started to pray (usually during my two daily hours in the car) that God would show me where to serve.
A few days later, the small church was having a retreat up in the mountains. Part of me didn’t want to go, because I wanted so badly to stay at home instead of spending another day in the car (and attending yet another a Bible study, I’ll admit). But I did go, and I was delightfully surprised to find that the retreat was almost nothing but games and recreation: all twenty of us with a rec building by the woods. Because I am me, in no time flat I found myself joining the kids and teenagers in whatever games they were playing… and whenever they got bored, I came up with something new. (Thank you for teaching me how to entertain children on the fly, Winshape Camps!) Even in the evening when we broke out the board games and playing cards, we were all screaming and laughing until our sides hurt. It was a “vacation” that I had very much needed.
The next morning at that church, one of the pastors pulled me aside and asked me to pray about leading the middle schoolers, because he hadn’t seen them have that much fun together for months. Immediately I felt the overwhelming urge to say yes, but I knew right away that I couldn’t commit to be a youth leader unless I gave up working the cameras at my other church. I told him that I did want to do it, but that I needed to pray for a day or so to be absolutely sure — which he understood.
I spent the next days with my heart constantly beating a little faster. Not with stress, but with excitement. From an outside standpoint — even a logic standpoint — the big church makes more sense for my current stage of life. It’s filled with singles, film professionals, and a lot of social events. The small church doesn’t really have any of those things.
But they genuinely need me.
After speaking to a few people about it, I finally reached the resolution that I don’t need five hundred single men or twenty film professionals in my life: I just need one. The right one. And if I’ve learned anything in my short little life, it’s that God can use any circumstances, no matter their appearances, to bring about great things.
I finally called the big church to explain my dilemma, and to ask whether or not they would be able to manage without me; I certainly didn’t want to walk out on them abruptly and leave a sour taste in their mouths. I actually discovered the truth about myself and about how I felt as I explained it to them: “I wanted to stay for years, and never leave the camera crew until an act of God pulled me away.
“And God has acted… just a lot sooner than I thought.”
The best part was, they understood completely. Today is my last Sunday on the cameras, in fact. The final service is coming up as I write this. I’ve been calm and composed all day… with a bizarre mixture of relief, heartbreak, and euphoria. I certainly didn’t expect to find myself crying, though. It happened after hearing several of my leaders say how much they were going to miss me, how much they had come to rely on my skill (again, such an encouragement after my self-esteem drop between jobs), and how much they had hoped to see me grow with their teams. Though I’m not even moving away from Atlanta, it still feels like I’m also leaving behind a thousand chances to work with these people that I admire so much.
In the past, whenever I’ve had to make a tough decision, I’ve usually been able to follow God’s call without deviating from my own personal preferences. My college, my career, my hobbies… This was the first time that I really had to look at my circumstances and make a choice between rock-solid logic and God’s inexplicable call.
Staying here at the big church wouldn’t be bad. It would be great, in fact. So great! I'm serving God, I'm honing my abilities, I'm connecting with professionals… and I didn't realize until now how painful it is for me to leave.
But yet again, God is calling me somewhere else. Somewhere that maybe, at first glance, doesn’t look like the sort of place that I need, or that my career needs, or my romantic prospects. But it is a place that needs me, and a place where my impact for God’s kingdom just might be more powerful.
Staying here would be great… but God wants me to go somewhere better. In the words of Michelle Waters, I'm like a little child clutching a handful of dandelions… but my Father wants me to let them go in order to receive a rose.
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