There was one time I moved to D.C. and my experience caught me completely off guard. I had arrived in August, hopeful and expectant. But then the position I had lined up fell through almost as soon as I arrived, throwing me for a loop. A big, unexpected loop. A living-across-the-country loop so huge that I considered moving home—no small feat, especially since I had just arrived and was committed to staying for much longer than a few days.
Yet, a funny thing happened to me that one time I moved here: I survived. Within a few weeks of what I was sure would lead to my ultimate doom and failure, I was doing all right. Almost two years ago today, I was walking into the Washington Post’s newsroom as an intern for the very first time.
I’ve been reminding myself of that story—my own story—quite often these days. It’s a story I love telling because it’s the best example of God’s faithfulness that I’ve ever experienced, and it has a good ending.
But how would I tell that story if I didn’t know the ending yet?
I would tell you that I arrived in D.C. with a lot of hopes. And a lot of plans.
I would tell you that things didn’t go exactly as I had planned.
I would tell you that I didn’t regret coming to D.C. at all. In fact, I’d tell you that I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I would tell you that D.C. is awesome! (Because it is.)
I would tell you that I was confused about everything, too.
I would tell you that I don’t know what the next step is, and that I’m not really sure why things are happening this way.
I would tell you that if I think about it too much I start to get humbled, scared, overwhelmed, and a little bit nauseous.
Most of all, I would tell you that I was looking forward to the ending, however and whenever it comes, because, man—I really don’t like not knowing it.
That’s the story I’m telling this time around. I’m in D.C. and it’s not the transition I expected, but it is still so good. It’s taking a lot of faith. It’s taking a lot of energy. It’s taking a lot of…oomph (some unquantifiable term to describe the effort it takes to get out of bed at a reasonable hour). It’s taking a lot grappling with the unknown.
But here’s one thing I do know: God has a history of turning my biggest setbacks into the best experiences of my life. I’m looking forward to the day when I can write that history repeats itself.