The wind was howling at 22 miles-per-hour.
And as I crossed over 6th Avenue on my way to work, I buried my head down into my chest in an attempt to keep the gusts from blowing back my puffy coat's hood. I could no longer see the people walking on either side of me - I only continued following the feet just in front of me. Counting the streets that I crossed to make sure I hadn't missed my block. Every now and then I felt a brush on each shoulder as the crowd would get thicker and then light again. Just for a moment, I imagined that I had been caught in a dust storm. Though it was 7 degrees outside, I was looking for an oasis.
The people around me are all strangers. And although I'm far from alone - in some ways, I'm not.
If I'm being honest, I feel as though I've been called out into the wilderness. Bear with me on this one. Yes, I know New York City wouldn't quite be described as a wilderness by experts of geography or ecology or theology or desertology. But think of it this way...
In the Bible, there are two words used to describe a wilderness. One is the Hebrew word "mid-bawr" (Old Testament) and the other is a Greek word "er-ay-mos" (New Testament). Both of these words are used at times to describe an uninhabited, barren wasteland. But, perhaps surprisingly, they are also used to describe places that are good for pasturing sheep. The animals, maybe. But in this case, God's sheep. They are where people go to have their spirits revived. It's where they go when God needs to tell them something.
So far, New York has been my wilderness. So far, it's been less about the geographical location. And more about the spiritual one.
It's in these moments that I realize that the tug at my heart I felt months, and even years, ago was real. It wasn't imagined, or self-created. Some say it's a calling. Others say an impulse. Others a gut feeling. Whatever it is, I know this is my chance. My chance to pull in close to the things that are really important - to hug them tightly - and remember why I'm here. Not just in New York, but why I exist at all. It's my chance to love harder and deeper than I ever have before. It's my chance to give my comfort zone the middle finger, and to kick my fear to the curb. It's my chance to say thank you every day that I'm still here, living this dream. It's my chance to say to the world - I don't need anything but God.
From a gut feeling, to being here. From hearing about friends moving across the country and wishing it was me. To it being me. A calling if that's how you want to describe it. But it's something I knew I had to do. No, I didn't understand why.
But, as you can tell, I'm beginning to find out.
Love y'all.