editor’s note :: i’m taking a break this month to work on a new manuscript. some of my closest friends have agreed to fill this space in my absence with their thoughts on bravery and what it means for our faith. you can read the rest of the posts here. today, jordy shares her words. We gathered around the storage unit which had housed my college belongings for seven months. I had just returned from a temporary job in Arizona and was now back sorting through the boxes I had hastily shoved behind the metal door soon after graduation. A few items had made the move with me in my red car as I set out on a short adventure knowing it would end and I would soon be back in the dusty maze of ten by tens.
What I didn't know the first time around is how I would be back in front of my padlocked space just seven short months later with a moving truck, my supportive family and a one-way plane ticket back to Arizona. This time it wouldn't be temporary. This time there was not a definite end.
When I received the phone call a few weeks prior, I didn't question my decision. I didn't even think about my decision. I just said yes, the answer coming from the deepest part of me willing and able to move me forward, and trusting God was in control. Before I knew it, I was packing keepsakes, hand-me-down furniture and my future into the back of a truck without hesitation. I boarded a plane from humid, rainy Houston and landed in dry, sunny Phoenix just two hours later.
I could count the people I knew on one hand.
I knew the streets ran north-south and east-west making it easy to find my way around town.
And I knew I had to show up at my job at 8:30 each morning, Monday through Friday.
That's all I knew.
As a single girl living in a wildly different city than I had been raised, I had to figure out the unknowns on my own. I was unknown, too, and I would hardly be running into any familiar faces. I so wanted to be known – to create lasting friendships, to find moments of love, to learn about myself as a twenty-something. But to become known, I had to put myself out there. And to put myself out there, I had to be brave.
I've never considered myself brave. My stomach drops at even the thought of heights and tall buildings. I stand back from roller coasters convincing myself I've been on enough in my lifetime. I am rarely spontaneous if I can help it. And if I can’t help it, I tread lightly. I've just never considered myself brave.
But living in a new city with millions of strangers? Bravery is a must. Church-hopping and sitting alone in a pew until a place feels right is a must. Saying yes to an offer for a date just to see how it works out is a must. Finding local Arizonans through blogging and meeting face-to-face for coffee is a must.
Behind the bravery, there were nights of lonely tears. I had moments when I questioned my faith in God’s will for my journey. I doubted ever finding friendships like the ones I had left behind or a love like the one I dreamed about through ink in my journal.
Bravery isn’t always easy, but it is the only way to move forward.
Eventually, the months turned into years. The handful of good friends turned into an armful of incredible friends. The myriad of dates gone wrong turned into one date gone very, very right.
Almost five years later, I am a braver, better person for trusting my gut and my God and moving forward with this journey He has set me on.
And that, I know.
BIO :: I was born and raised in Texas with a love for family, country music, and good food. After graduating college at Texas A&M, I packed up my car and moved to Arizona for a job that was supposed to last five months. I'll have been in the desert for five years come August. It's here where I met my husband and, in a whirlwind of a romance, we were married nine months to the day we first exchanged names. We just celebrated two years of marriage in March. I spend my days as an event planner and my evenings as a wife, blogger, and freelance editor. I place my strength, my future and my restless heart in Christ. I scatter my thoughts across the screen in the form of words, eager to share and start a conversation. And I do all of this by grace alone.