This Beautiful, Messy Life

Two weeks ago I quit my job.

Well, technically it was a temporary position, so I knew that September would be the end of it. But, the fact that I don’t have another 9 to 5 to anticipate and worry over actually is one big mess of exhilaration and relief.

Right now, I’m reading Amy Poehler’s Yes Please, rewriting my cover letter, applying to jobs, reading about Spiro Agnew (who apparently started the whole “liberal media bias” idea – as a millennial, this is news to me. Literally. ūüėČ ) and trying not to think about the parties that I’m going to within the next few weeks.

So these parties. You need to know about them, because they’ve become a new part of my life. These are snippets of my weekend¬†where I dress up like Emma Stone (or at least put in a good effort) and come up with some dazzling career that I have¬†to wow everybody.

Because that’s what everybody does in the DC area. The perfected art of I – must – wow – you – with – my – job is a rite of passage for anybody living here in DC at happy hour, reception¬†or any sort of social gathering you go to. It’s five o’clock somewhere has now become a source of anxiety for me in my nomadic and uncertain¬†political career.

This “wowing” has meant so much to me this past year of being Miss Twenty Something Intern and Miss Nonprofit Worker (who secretly disliked her job). But now, fall is pushing her way into my heart, or rather the autumn air is stirring up burnt orange, gold and russet leaves. And between pulling out my jeans and sweaters and sifting through gourds and pumpkins at road side farmer’s markets, I’ve remembered¬†who I am. ¬†My anxious thoughts are unraveling with the change of season, or the realization that this new season is no longer some unsurmountable mountain of terror, but rather one I’ve already slugged through and can take the swirly path again, laughing at how all those unexpected twists and turns terrified me only a year ago.

Even in all of the unknowns, I’ve found that living my life to impress people¬†is more draining than walking through the streets of DC, braving the July humidity. Being yourself can be intimidating to others who don’t know your story, where you’ve begun or where you’re planning to end up. But I’ve learned that life isn’t a cookie cuttered, photoshopped snapshot on Insta. It’s not only the high points, it’s encompassed in the highs, lows and in every in-between. Because even in-betweens are the most precious moments that we’ll wish back some day when we’re laying on the beach, listening as the tide crashes against the shore, wondering how time escaped us and how we’ve changed and how people we love have changed – wondering if change is the way everything should be or if the past is the safer option.

And so even though I don’t understand it all, I’m so thankful for the messy, everyday moments of life that add up to the life God has given me. He’s written my story and He hasn’t forgotten to write yours either. I hope you know how even in the fear and unknown and unpredictable you can have hope and joy. I hope you know you’re loved right where you are and that your failures don’t define you, because Jesus does. You’re never alone in uncertainty or doubt. He is right there, walking with you through it.






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