Two Years Ago

I turned on my phone to see a notification from my photos app. It is always showing me photos from the past few months or years. Highlighting different events. Today, I was met with smiling selfies that I had taken from my long drive from Baltimore to Nashville. 

The time stamp read: Two years ago.

Wow, had it really been two whole years? 

I looked at my face in the photos and remembered all the emotions I had felt while traveling to Nashville. I was excited, anxious, sad, and hopeful. Like a mixed bag of jelly beans, my emotions were all the flavors. And you know what? I did it. I traveled those 15 hours and made it to my new apartment. God brought me along the whole way. 

And now, as I stare at the screen and think about that time, I marvel at how far I’ve come. 

I don’t often talk about my transition to Nashville because it was the necessary result of starting an in-person master’s program. But can I be honest? Before I left, I felt like I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

I had family, church family, and friends all around me in Baltimore. I felt safe at my job and my work as a tutor. With a few more clients, I could really start to be comfortable. So why did I leave all of that?

This story starts long before I jumped into the car with my dog and headed to Nashville. It started long before I even realized my story was beginning.

In 2011, I had a history teacher who wasn’t actually that good at teaching history. This fact might seem like a weird place to start my story, but it is actually very relevant. Because my teacher was not good at teaching, the class was extremely boring. To help make class go by more quickly, I would read our assigned homework during class. You may think this was not very polite, but during class, we would mostly have a study hall. Because of this,  I read through a very well-written history textbook. The textbook weaved together people, places, and how small events shaped big events. I began to fall in love with history as I had never done so before.

History became a means for me to understand people of the past. People who lived, breathed, and had their being in a space and time so foreign to mine. But, through history, I could know them. Through historiography, I could discover the undiscoverable. And, I fell in love.

Fast forward to a very specific moment. I was in Morocco studying there for a semester.  We had traveled to the northern coast. While we were walking around a small town, our guide wanted to take us to see a beach. As we walked through the trees, there was a small wall next to the path. I asked, “When was this built?” I knew things in Morocco dated to much later than anything I had ever experienced in the US. The guide said the wall was from the 7th century AD. My heart raced. Just an old wall sitting here? From the 7th century? How could this be so old? My mind started filling in stories of the people who built the wall. I imagined the people there defending themselves against the seafarers. I immediately stopped and made my friend take a picture of me with my hand on the wall.

As I laid my hand on the wall, something clicked within me. I can know the past through the things people left behind, not just what they wrote. I fell in love with archaeology. 

With another jump in my timeline, we arrive at my first experience as a tutor. A friend had asked me to help their son with his classes, and one student turned into 4 very quickly. Tutoring was never on my personal list of to-dos. But, I love learning and thought it would be fun to help someone else learn. What I found is that I love the pursuit of knowledge, but I also love helping other people learn to love it too. In God’s timing, I learned that I wanted to teach. 

But what should I teach? I need to teach archaeology. 

It was the only logical conclusion to this question. How could I not teach about my first love in academics? How could I just teach geography or social studies when it was the essence of discovery within the ground that drew me in?

Then, two years ago, I was at an impasse. I had this love for teaching and this love for history and archaeology. That love for archaeology had not faded even though I had left school. In some ways, being out of school and still pursuing history was one of the greatest gifts I received in my time away from academia. Even if I weren’t studying this topic in school, I would probably still be studying it. 

But how could I teach this subject? I needed a PhD. 

I remember when I started to research what it would take to become a professor. Could I do it? Could I make it to that level? 

At my age, was it too late?

Then I read the stories of Abraham, Joseph, and Moses. I think I was re-reading Genesis, and the timing was just right. These men all served God in their later years. These men found their breakthrough in their life’s purpose much later than 20 or even 30. 

Could God do the same for me? 

I had to wrestle with the answer to this question for a while. I prayed for a long time before ever talking to someone about my idea. Then, slowly, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, I began to ask others around me. I began to listen to friends and confidants and hear what they thought of my crazy idea. 

The long and short of it was that I could go back if I wanted. So, I started going through the process of applying, quitting, and finding a new place to live.

Each step was a doorway. Each doorway opened to me, and I was very overwhelmed. I had expected to meet a lot of resistance. I had expected to see doors close like so many had before. But instead, each obstacle was solved, and each need was met. 

I don’t want it to sound like my faith was great before moving to Nashville and that is why I moved. In some ways, my faith in God’s providence was weak. But through this process, my faith has become so much stronger. I have come to understand the verse “endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Romans 5:4-5 ESV

The act of going through life with Jesus is the process by which our faith grows. It has been a very humbling process. But I am so very thankful to have done it because I know so much more about God’s character and His true love for his creation.

With things lining up and God moving in mysterious ways, I packed up my car. Leaving Baltimore was hard. I don’t think I ever really put into words how hard it was. My church family had become my home. My tutor students had become my children. My sister had become my best friend. And, for reasons only God can say, I was leaving it all. 

I cried because leaving is hard. I cried because I knew it was time to say goodbye. God had clearly opened doors for me. In a way, I felt like it was my Jonah moment. Would I turn and run to Taursus? Or would I go where I was called?

Two years have passed since I drove across Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia to get to Nashville. Two years have come and gone. 

I have been richly blessed by these two years of study. I have been blessed by the new friends that I have made. Something even greater has happened. I have begun to rest in God’s peace and provision over my life and my story. My faith has increased; the refining continues. 

And now, I write to you from Israel, a place I only dreamed of going to. I still don’t really believe I deserve to be here. But I am coming around to that idea. 

What I have learned in these two years is that God is trustworthy and true. He cares about suffering and sees and hears our pain. I have learned that it is a worthy cause to dedicate your life to following God. The following is not merely obeying rules and regulations but listening to God’s voice and seeking him first. I have learned that God is patient. He is ever so patient, and his patience is unending. He does not tire of my questions. He is not tired of my failures. His Holy Spirit is meant to encourage and aid us in this journey of following. 

I am ever so proud of myself for making the leap to come to Nashville. I am ever so grateful for all those who have supported me on this journey and continue to encourage me. I cannot see into the future, but I trust that the next two years will be just as fruitful and meaningful in my journey on this thing we call life.