Since leaving the place that has for so long been home to me, just a month ago, I’ve traveled through more than a dozen states, and seen more beauty than I could ever capture in a photograph, or put down in ink. This country is vast, and fascinating, and beautiful, and mysterious at times. I left Illinois in search of a place to call home (among other things), and a career that I could truthfully say I loved. I had in my mind certain ideas about what each of those things would look like, and have since beginning had those images shaken and jumbled and rearranged in my mind. And I’m not sorry for it, because I’m beginning to realise in actuality, rather than just grasp conceptually, that God is the only one who could ever shape a life. This is the first time I’ve lived one, and it’s silly to think I’d be able to get it right in one go.
If I had to offer anyone a concise bit of advice right now, I should say to not trust social media to show you the truth, on much of anything. I went off to explore the west coast thinking I’d fall in love with the place almost immediately. What you see on the internet of the west portrays it as a wonderland of opportunity, beauty, and community. And while it is those things, I don’t think it is more so than many other places, unless you make it so. We tend to see things as we want to see them rather than as they are, and that can be blinding rather than revealing. I expected to find in reality what I’d witnessed already through Instagram and other online sources, and I did to some extent; the west is stunning, the mountains and woods and fields, the ocean that’s so vast you can’t do much more than stare at it as it crashes against the rocky coastline and sends spray into the foggy air. I’ll never regret seeing what I have, experiencing the life and land that exists all over this nation. But natural beauty isn’t the only thing that makes a home, even though it can certainly contribute to that feeling. Because it is a feeling, home. It’s different for everyone, and everyone has different priorities for what they want their home to look like. I love the mountains and rivers, and the cliffy shore of the Pacific, but something about it all just … didn’t feel right to me. I didn’t find anything that really made me want to stay, which is why, only several weeks after leaving Illinois, I find myself some nine hours driving distance from the place I started. But those six hundred odd miles almost seem an ocean to me.
I arrived in Fayetteville, Arkansas yesterday afternoon. It rained all day yesterday, and it’s still raining now, but somehow, it feels … good in this place. The first building I wandered into (not by accident) was a used bookstore, narrow isles crowded from floor to ceiling with old and new volumes of every size and subject, little hand-written notes sticking out from shelves to mark genres and authors. I couldn’t stop smiling. After making my way back out to the rain-spattered front walk I spoke shortly with the man there who worked in the shop, and he gave me directions to what he called the best restaurant in town, a smallish café just a block or so down the street, built in an old train depot, where I had perhaps the best sweet crepe I’ve ever tasted. (It being three o’clock in the afternoon won’t stop me from enjoying breakfast food if it’s available.) The town has the feel of a quaint little city, full of shops and local bars and places to eat, with none of the dirty hustle and bustle of the over-crowded streets of Chicago that I’m used to. (My apologies to any fans of that city, but that’s simply my opinion of the place.) Thus far, I’ve found Fayetteville to be small, and pretty, and well-facilitated. And I’m enjoying it.
At the moment I’m sitting in the local library nearby some tall windows over-looking a little pond that hasn’t stopped rippling since the rain started up again this morning. Chopin is playing in my earbuds. I had an interview at a Starbucks a few miles distant earlier, which means I have at least a chance of employment here, and housing isn’t expensive once an income is secured. I’m hoping to attend a small group this evening that’s run by a couple who attend a church in town, in fact the church I’ll be trying out this Sunday. I’m excited to do so, to be able to gather with my Father’s fellow children, and I do think it unlikely that there wouldn’t be at least some family or other in a Christian church willing to take in a traveler for a little while. Honestly, finding a place to stay while I look for employment is probably the main priority for me right now. If I can begin working, then soon enough I can afford an apartment for myself, but it can be difficult to get one without the other. Once again, and not for the last time, I am left with no choice but to trust God, and do my best with what I have. I’ve been given the opportunity, and the means, and I know that God’s part in supplying the rest is greater than my own. To all those who have been praying, I thank you sincerely.
Also, I hate doing this at all, but there is a donate page here on my website. If you feel so inclined, any money given would be greatly appreciated.
Wherever you are, it probably isn’t as bleak as you may think. Slow down, look around, and get to know someone a little better. Being in the same place for a long while may be rather boring, but you don’t necessarily have to leave home to learn to appreciate it.
with love,
— Joel