uncomfortable

It all started when my car got stolen.

Well, sort of.

About a month ago I was packing up my life in boxes to move 17 hours away from home. For the first time.

Two weeks previous I had just purchased a shiny new car, which was a total upgrade from my ’02 rust-bucket college car that had been sitting idly in my parents driveway for an entire year while I circled the globe. (I literally came home to an impound notice and a wasp nest was forming in the fuel tank.)

In the matter of one hour, my car was stolen.

The police were called, my friends and I had our freak out moments and my friend drove me home and prayed peace over my anxious mind.

As I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, I wondered what I would say to the stranger who had stolen my car. I wondered if it would be found at all. I wondered how the hell I was going to move with no car?

I prayed. I cried. I was confused. All the things. But there was still this slight sense of peace in knowing that the journey ahead would still work out because He had been way to clear about it up until this mess.

Four hours later I found out that my car was not, in fact, stolen — but towed, due to a miscommunication on a landlord’s part.

Well, great! No harm, no foul. The 4 hours of discomfort disintegrated as I made my way to the towing company to pick up my untouched car.

My second week in Georgia, I had gotten invited to a gathering that I decided to attend because I had made it my goal to make all the friends.

At the end of the night I put on my raincoat and headed out to my car parked on the side of the puddle-filled street. I put my car in drive and hit the gas.

My tires spun, no movement.

Reverse, no movement.

My car was officially stuck in the mud.

Bless my new friends’ souls, they strapped on their boots and pushed my car for over an hour.

Over an hour, people.

About 20 minutes into the ordeal, as my car was in neutral and these two men were pushing my car, I sat there. Uncomfortable. Wishing I had my dad to help and sad that this was my embarrassing first impression with new friends. Cool.

In the middle of my pity-party, God was like,

“Hey, look around. I am surrounding you with an incredible new community of people who will care for you.”

They successfully pushed my car out of the mud-pit. And successfully got drenched in mud. And successfully became my new bff's.

Last week, I went kayaking.

B L E S S.

If you know me, you know my bucket is full.

One minor mishap, however. As I was getting out of the kayak, my phone got water damage.

And within 24 hours, completely died. 

I went 48 hours, phone-less while it sat in rice and I prayed in high hopes it would come back to life.

Even rice couldn’t suck out the oasis that began eating away at the insides of my device.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Since Thursday (and counting) I have no cellular device.

Which has actually been refreshing in many ways.

But then there’s those times when I need quick-easy navigation in a brand new city, or wish I could FaceTime home, or text friends to make plans, or pay my landlord on venmo.

Yeah. Literally ya’ll. Go an entire weekend without your phone and you’ll realize just how much you depend on it. It’s scary.

I feel like shouting from a mountaintop

“I AM A MILLENNIAL AND I HAVE NO PHONE AND I’M SURVIVING AND I'M ACTUALLY OKAY WITH IT.”

There’s no alarm to wake me up. No texts to respond to. No calendar to check.

My inner Ron Swanson is loving the freedom.

But even with this hurdle, God is still teaching me so much.

He’s showing me how much He likes my discomfort.

Not in a mean, cruel, or patronizing way.

But He knows that when I’m uncomfortable

is when I spend the most time with Him.

And He loves spending time with me more than anything.

So, here’s to putting the (currently non-existent) phone down, shoving the car keys in my purse, and just sitting in the stillness of discomfort.

Though it’s not always enjoyable, it’s always peaceful.

Because it’s these moments of discomfort that remind me of what’s really important.

I'm just embarrassed that He had to move me to a new place, throw some mud on my car and take away my phone to show me that.