Memories don’t fade at the state line.

It’s been a long time since I blogged.

Putting my life into words makes it real – and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do that.

Ten minute re-cap (if you know this story, skip down below):

October 19th I left my beloved Nashville, packed up my car and began the twenty hour trek to Colorado. I cried the last four days I was there. And when I say cried I mean wept. Cried myself to sleep, cried my way through lunches, coffees, phone calls. It destroyed my heart to leave. My wonderful amazing mother flew to Nashville, helped me pack everything up and did most of the driving while my heart broke. We made it back late the night of the 20th. The morning of the 21st I woke up to snow. Those first few weeks I was too numb to do anything. All I kept thinking was, what.have.I.done? Too many times to count I got in my car and was ready to just drive. Drive somewhere that wasn’t Colorado and this new yet familiar land that I was in. I sent my resume out to numerous companies with no interest. Finally my parent’s church called me for an interview. The position I originally applied for I didn’t think I was qualified enough for but the HR department decided to take a chance and pitch me to the team. Later that week they called me in for an interview to meet with the department. I got as much information as I could about the team and what they were doing and came prepared. The interview went incredibly well and about thirty minutes after I was unofficially offered the position. They told me to take some time to think and pray about it. I was shocked. This job seemed AMAZING and I loved the staff… but… it was in Colorado. And it wasn’t a job that I could take for 6 months and then leave. It was a job I needed to commit to. I wrestled and yelled. Frustrated that this wasn’t how I wanted things to turn out. Slowly I started to submit my will and see that this could be a good thing. So I accepted the position and I absolutely love it. I’m currently the Impact Ministries Assistant at Woodmen Valley Chapel. The staff is about 70 and the congregation is between 5,000 and 6,000. I’m working with local outreach and global outreach. It’s amazing. Better than I could have hoped and surprisingly, I’m still using skills I learned in the music industry (Thanks Chris!). I’m living with my parents right now and then come spring I’ll be moving out. and scene.

If you’ve made it this far, I commend you.

Okay so what my blog is really about.

I am incredibly lonely. I have my family and that is great. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with them and being near them but my soul is craving fellowship. I never realized how important it is to me to be apart of a community until I lost mine. My community in Nashville was so special. Maybe part of that was just being apart of the music industry. It made me part of a club. As silly as it was, I could identify myself with them. In Colorado, I don’t know what that looks like. Occasionally I’ll see someone wearing skinny jeans and v-neck and think “ahh, a kindred spirit.” I also HATE talking about what I did in Nashville. It’s so rare out here to find someone who worked in the industry that anytime I start talking about who I worked with, I feel like a tool. In some ways I feel alienated. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be someone established in the industry and then walk away from it. I desperately need friends. People I can see movies with, bake for, have game nights and BBQ’s, to laugh with, go on ski trips and walk with. I desperately desperately need this. I thought I could just start over. Make Colorado new. Accept the life I had in Nashville, be thankful for it, and be excited about new experiences in Colorado. But what I’m realizing is that the memories didn’t fade at the Tennessee state line. My heart still catches when I realize she and I aren’t friends. My pride still smarts from their words. My soul aches from losing him. My anger flares up when I see her living the life I wanted. The pain and the frustration I endured this past year have followed me. I have carried them over into my new life. I don’t know how to get rid of the baggage that has crossed state lines. I’m not enough and too much all at once.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.” Hosea 2:14/15

Colorado is my desert.


One thought on “Memories don’t fade at the state line.

  1. I read this in its entirety. I nodded my head a lot, but not in a patronizing way.

    I did the same thing, you know. I went home, and I really didn’t want to. I worked at my home church, and I made it work, even though I really wasn’t happy. And then I left the country, and got even more unhappy.

    For a while. Things look better now. I don’t have any campy advice to get you there, but I know that the only reason I feel happy or passionate about anything is because of Jesus. I’m happy that you trust Him, and I hope that will grow during this time. I’ll pray to that end.

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