I find myself sitting in the local starbucks (as I hear a collective gasp from southern bean fans and fellow employees). It’s a refreshing afternoon.
A laptop.
A bottle of juice.
Ear buds in with Robinella singing sweetly.
I’ve ventured here to compose a new resume, statement of faith/ brief testimony and a cover letter for a number of churches I’ll be applying to around the country. A few days ago I decided to create a profile on YouthSpecialties.com and post my resume on their “job bank”. Slowly but surely I’ve become more accepting of the idea that, “hmm, maybe I really am not supposed to be on the Outer Banks.”

Yesterday I think it was I had said to myself, let s just approached this thing from the standpoint that I’m supposed to be elsewhere. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. It was like the cover had been lifted of the box that’s full of my dreams and they came spewing out. The excitement to live life to the max came back with a vengeance. Today came as a confirmation. I rejoiced.

There’s this lady named Mary that comes in to the Bean everyday. She’s soft spoken and from what I’ve gathered very intellectual. Assuming that she’s traveled near and far I decided I’d ask her, “what cities are the most artistically inclined?” She proceeded to give me this lengthy list of big cities and the stories that followed made me drool at the mouth. She was familiar with the pieces I have up in The Bean and smiled as she told me where I would ideally live. I told her my anxieties of not knowing where I was supposed to go; of not being sure this is where I was supposed to be and she went into a tale that I’ve heard three times in the last week.

Long story short there was a guy floating in a flood. He knew that God would save him. Three separate times he had the opportunity to be saved but he kept waiting till “God” saved him. Well he ended up drowing. At heaven’s gates he asked God “why didn’t you save me?” and God replied, “are you kidding?! What else did you want?? I sent you a log, then a boat then a helicopter!” All at once it made sense. I wasn’t supposed to be here. The doors slamming have been my log, my boat, my helicopter. God’s been showing me left and right that the Outer Banks isn’t for me to minister in. Yes He’ll use me here and He has been but this place, isn’t where He could best use me. And now it all makes sense.

I am drawn to the West. The majority of the cities I’ve heard of where an artist could really flourish have been in the west. One neat part is that my best friend, Ellie, is looking to move to either Denver and Chicago after graduation. Two cities that top my list. We are discussing the option of living together if we both end up in the same city. I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea; I’ve always wanted to live with her before she got married. But the idea of venturing somewhere completely new where no one knows my face that has a mystery and excitement attached to it that I savor.