A few weeks ago, I saw Adele at Madison Square Garden. Definitely one of the best things I’ve done since moving to New York. She is an incredible artist and just an adorable person in general, and I remember feeling almost euphoric upon realizing that I was listening to one of the biggest stars in the world in one of the most iconic venues in the world. It was a night I’ll never forget (shout out to Sara and Gary for being the best friends ever and making that happen).
Today, I took a walk at lunch and found myself sobbing on the steps of Madison Square Garden because I saw a stranger who reminded me of someone I lost to suicide earlier this year. I doubt I’ll share much about that here and it might seem unrelated, but I mention it because a lot of times, especially on social media, I try to make my life here in New York look really fun and exciting (and don’t get me wrong, sometimes it is!). I want you to see “Adele at the Garden”, but not “ugly crying at the Garden.” It’s so easy to do because that’s just kind of the social media culture we live in (and please, for the love of God, don’t mistake this as encouragement to start posting your private business all over Facebook).
But life is hard, y’all. To be honest, I kind of like pretending like it isn’t or like I don’t struggle that much. Other people do, and that’s cool, but I am the one who takes care of those people. No one needs to take care of me. It plays right into my aforementioned heroine complex. There’s a lot of deep-rooted pride involved in not being vulnerable or feeling like I have to be the one to take care of everything and everyone. It’s not cute or selfless or kind. It’s stupid. It’s just a gross and ugly distortion of the grace the Father has shown me. And it’s been a pretty terrible and painful process to be stripped of the pride that created this monster in me. Oh, but it’s his grace to strip me of it. It’s his grace to take things and even people away from me. He doesn’t let me stay the way I am, which is equally as infuriating as it is incredibly beautiful.
Over the past few years, God has given me the gift (and sometimes curse, hahahaha) of doing life with native New Yorkers. They don’t let me get away with showing them the “highlight reel” and will get in my face when I try to “social work” them (translation: trick them into talking about all of their problems until we run out of time to talk about mine). I have never argued with people so much in my life but I’ve never been more humbled either. I got stories for days on these guys, so more on them later.
Don’t be stupid like me. Find people who love you and be vulnerable with them. Allow yourself to be cared for, just as you care for others. Go see Adele at the Garden (or don’t because allegedly she’s not touring for 10 years after this), but don’t be afraid to ugly cry on the steps, either.
Let Go, My Soul 