Category Archives: Nashville

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Trafficking in Hope

Well, I think the phone call place might be a bust…. I just think I can get better for the same price. But the neighborhood was really cool…. a really wooded, residential kind of place.

What am I sayin… a really wooded place??? Good grief, I think Tennessee is made up of nothing BUT trees. I think you’d be hard pressed in this city to find even 50 yards without a tree! If the northwest ever feels like it’s going bald, they can just come here and grab a few trees from Nashville. I don’t think anyone would even notice their missing.

I did find a couple of other potential places, and I think I made a potential new friend at one of the places I went. We talked a lot about moving from place to place and how we ended up in Nashville — she came from Denver by way of Miami…. so I guess my story didn’t sound so weird to her as it does to others. šŸ™‚

I did put down a deposit and app fee on one place. But I’m not completely sure its the right choice. It’s $50/mo more than the highest I’d planned to spend. Hmm…. just don’t know what to do. Don’t you just wish sometimes God would send you His answers/ideas/… heck I’d settle for a, “that sounds okay” message — via FedEx? Man, I do. Especially right now.

Oh, yeah, about the title of this post. I named this blog “A Voice of Hope” because, well, that’s been the theme of my life for the past couple of years. Have you ever found themes running through your life/relationship with Jesus? You know, where everything you learn and experience can all be traced back to these themes?

For me, one of the major themes over the last few years has been hope. Now, I’m not talking about that fluffy, ethyrial “out there” thing the church has bottled and convinced us is hope. I’m talking about God-hope. The gritty, messy, aching, longing stuff. The hope a pregnant mom feels in the 9th month, when her back is killing her, her ankles are swollen and she’s tired of not being able to see her feet, but excited to see her new baby. The hope a child feels when Christmas is just close enough to touch and taste, but still far enough away that it feels like YEARS before she’ll get to open the presents. That’s God-hope. Its the stuff that both fills you with excited anticipation and an overwhelming ache, joy that “it’s” coming and sorrow that “it” is not yet here.

I love God-hope. It drives me crazy. It drives me to tears. It drives me to my knees, in pain and in worship.

It’s what I live with every single day. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Following Jesus is a most amazing adventure. But you have to be willing to pay a price in sweat and tears, and get paid a daily wage in God-hope.

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5th Gear or Park

My friend Jamie, as he says, lives life in either 5th gear or park. He’s either all the way in, or all the way out; going full throttle, or at a dead standstill.

That kinda describes me right now too. Except that I can go from 5th gear to park in 3 seconds flat.

For example, yesterday I was in 5th gear. Going full throttle, from apartment complex to apartment complex looking for a place to live and meeting new people along the way. Then had dinner with new friends (thanks, Spence, for the connection! Shayne and Michelle are waayyy cool!!), and went home to study the apartment guides and my map some more (oh, yeah, and see the Dodger whup the Braves. Go Dodger Blue!). I only turned the lights out and surrendered to sleep when the apartment guide smacked me in the face ’cause I’d fallen asleep reading it.

Today, I’m in park. And I can’t think of a single way to get out of it. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I got up late…. well, late for Casa de Ferguson – this family is a crazy group of early risers! Me, I’d rather stay in bed till 11am, maybe even noon, and then stay up till the sun rises again… ah, the pull of the Bohemian life is strong, and my heart and will are weak….

At any rate, here I sit, still up in Hendersonville, when I should be down near Brentwood or Bellevue scouting affordable housing. How does one kick one’s self in the a–… um… butt… to get it in gear? Especially when one’s legs aren’t all that long to begin with. And, while I’m still quite flexible, I’m not nearly as much so as I was in high school, when I worked out with the gymnastics team.

Well, now…. I guess God decided to kick me in the butt for me. I just got a call from someone who’s got a duplex I wanted to look at yesterday. Funny how He works these things out… yeah, it could just be coincidence that my phone rang just as I was writing about bein’ in park…. but there’s just no fun in thinking about it that way, is there.

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The Beginning… Sort Of

The first post of the first blog of the new adventure.

I’m sitting at Panera’s, finishing up my Chai and watching the rain pour down. It looks like God just took a full bucket and dumped on top of Nashville. Could life get more perfect?

Well, yeah, actually it could. šŸ™‚ I could have a job, that would make it more perfect. And a place to live, that would even be better…. odd how I think a place to live is better than a job, isn’t it. Guess this unemployment-just-hangin’-with-my-friends stuff is really growing on me. Ah, but alas, money makes the world go ’round… at least so think the bill collectors. So a job I must get. And soon!

John’s parents are being very gracious and allowing me to take up space in their home. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I’d really like to stop living out of my suitcase and car. It’d be so nice to actually spread out my stuff and be able to leave it where it is instead of packing it back up each time I use it. Besides, I haven’t seen all my own belongings in over a year. When I finally do get to unpack it all it will feel like Christmas!

However, rent here is more than I was lead to believe. Soooo, I really need a roommate. Or a miracle. I’ll take either one.

Jobs seem to be scarce too. No one but coffee houses and retailers are hiring, and even their positions are limited. Hmmm….

Two Miracles to go, please!

On a more positive note, all this free time is giving me more time to spend with God. Most of that is still spent in pleading for His intervention for a job or apartment, or for His comfort as my heart continues to ache from the gaping hole mom and dad’s deaths have left.

However, more and more I crave to hear from Him; hear His voice calling up through His Word, or suddenly grabbing my attention with a new nugget of Truth from an often-read passage. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Digging into the Word has been a painful and fearful experience for me this past year. I don’t really know why. It’s not that I was running from God. Quite the opposite, I’ve run to Him — into His arms — and hid there most of the year. I guess it’s like when you’re sick. You don’t want to eat, you just want comfort.

Now that I’m feeling somewhat better, I’m realizing how famished I am. And I’m ready to eat. Ready for a feast. Bring it on, Jesus!