A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with a favorite friend from graduate school. She was a God-send that I knew, in our very first conversation, on my very first night in Paris, I was meant to meet. It was the kind of situation where I was trying to play it cool instead of pouncing on her and screaming, CAN WE BE BEST FRIENDS? YOU ARE EXACTLY WHO I WANT TO BE! because let’s be honest, people just don’t typically gravitate towards crazy. I can still see her, sitting across the table from me as we started to unpack and share tiny pieces who we were with each other. I told her that this was the first time I had been so far from home. Truthfully, I was still rocked and shocked that I had actually just moved to the other side of the planet. She nodded, wrapped her scarf around herself like a shawl, sat back, looked me right eye and said, “Well, you have a friend in me.”

In the following months, she became my go-to person for everything. She taught me all her best city secrets and slowly, Paris began to feel like home. And I’ve never doubted that if for no other reason, Paris was set in my life so that we would meet.

When I moved home from graduate school, I was all about adventure. I wanted to go, go go – starting with a move to New York and then who knows where. I felt like it was a calling. This urge for connecting with people from a hundred different backgrounds, loving them and sharing life with them had awakened inside of me and I felt antsy to bring it to life. A few months passed, and then a few more before I looked up to discover that I had planted roots without realizing it. Life was springing up in new relationships and opportunities everywhere. The go, go, go got so quiet I forgot it was there.

On the phone just a few weeks ago, my friend was in the middle of telling me the latest installments of fashion drama that comes with her job in the fashion industry when she starting talking about her recent trip to Paris for fashion week. And with those few words, I was suddenly ripped open.

How was the city? How did it look? How did it feel? What did you do?

With just the mention of Paris, a bucket of emotion that I thought had  quietly calmed down roared to life, turning and tipping until it spilled right out of me.

Let me be clear: from the very center of my heart, I feel that where I am right now, in Fort Worth, Texas, is where I am supposed to be. I feel in my bones that some of the relationships I have been given in the past  year were intended for me from before the very beginning. And yet, the solid knowledge that this is where I am meant to be does nothing to extinguish the near literal ache living inside me to go and see. To walk dusty roads and climb mountains and sit on people’s living room floors and look into the faces of strangers and see the light and love of God and talk about how despite being so very, very different, we are His and we are each being shaped by the same love and grace and truth. I don’t know what to do with the itching I have to pound pavement with scrapers towering far above and on the flipside, be totally encompassed by the far-flung wild nature of this earth. In a few words: to be everywhere but here – quiet, rooted, settled in Fort Worth, Texas here.

That all came tumbling out as I tried to keep up with her stories of what she had done in Paris.

 

When I was  little, my brother and I spent our spring breaks at our grandparents’ home in Waco. With time,  a routine formed that we followed every year– a trip to the zoo, movie rentals from Blockbuster, pizza, games and the highlight, a trip to Toys R US where we were both allowed to pick out one item.

Going to the mecca of toy stores with a carte blanche set-up was not an every day occurrence for the Rodgers kids and as a result, it was a deal worthy of a meticulous plan. I would make my way though the store section by section, aisle by aisle, taking stock of every single possibility before making my big decision. Truthfully, I already knew that my final choice would most likely come from the little girl’s toy store holy grail: the Barbie aisle.

But on one trip, not even the siren calls of that palatial pink row could sweet talk me. I can’t remember what exactly I was thinking, but in a toy superstore, I chose a six pack of apple juice.

Yes, that’s right. Apple juice.

Truth be told, as a kid, I adored apple juice. In that moment, I’m sure I was confident that apple juice would be a satisfactory, albeit easy, choice. And let’s be clear – there’s absolutely nothing wrong with apple juice, but don’t you want to reach down, look little Caitlin in the eye and say, “Kid, go a little bigger!” ? I had a literal world of toys in front of me and I settled so small.  It’s kind of the same struggle when it comes to dreaming, doesn’t it?

There’s something that feels dangerous and even stupid about dreaming – the hope that fuels them (and us) feels foolish in the hard, practical, tangible world that we live in. That’s just it though – the hope is our fuel. The dreams that rock inside of us, aching to come out and be real – they require hope, they require time and they require a very big God.

It’s easy to dream. It’s not so easy to wait. It’s easy to give up and move on. It’s not so easy to keep allowing those feelings to rise up, spill out in the middle of phone conversations and totally wreck you. It’s easy to push them – and God – away. It’s easy to decide that the mature, realistic thing to do is realize it’s not going to happen – ever. It’s easy to tell yourself that you don’t really want it.

Here’s the thing though – easy isn’t worth it. It’s just not.

I think if we had more people who allowed themselves to be wrecked from time to time by what they feel they were created to do, we would be lighter in every sense. We would be freer. We would be breathing more life into one another.

Every part of me wants to choose easy. But then a friend calls or I read a line in a story and it happens all over again –  deep dreams and thoughts and ideas rise up and knock like a pushy mentor who won’t take no for an answer. Yes, you will feel this. Yes, you will keep going with all of this. No, it’s not going to be easy. Yes, there’s a reason. No, we won’t leave you alone. And no, we’re not done – there’s so much to be done. It’s time to start expecting more.

From where I sit today, I have no idea what to do with these feelings except admit that they’re there and let them be. Keep dreaming and believing big things of a God that I can’t wrap my head around.  There is so much to be done – and none of it will be easy – but we’ve got to keep walking. We’ll stop when need be – to share and spill and rest, but we’ve got to keep on. And lest you forget, you always have a friend in me.