I should really just listen to God more often. I mean, He really does know what He’s doing.
Friendship restored, stress relieved, heart healed…all because I decided to stop being so stubborn for five seconds of my life and listen to what God had to say.
I ventured out to Greenwich Village today, my main goal being to visit Jefferson Market Library. This library is open to the public from 11:00am to 6:00pm. Walking through it is very similar (I would think) to roaming through some kind of forgotten castle or monastery, brought to a modernized state of former glory. The stained glass and tall windows allow for excellent lighting. The highest level (the one you reach by elevator or a four-story spiral staircase) is where all of the “adult” books are stored on shelf after shelf through doorways of marble and over floors of carpet and tile. The books themselves, as a selection, are rather admirable, though clearly not as various and extensive as the Library of Congress in D.C., but admirable nonetheless.
I sat in the upper level, observing all of the people, writing, and reading a random book titled The Mermaid’s Mirror by L.K. Madigan. Most people there were typing away on their laptops with headphones wading up their ears. Few were actually reading, which was a shame, considering the beautiful books around them that yearned to be held. The number of people that were in the library was a high one; this library is definitely not in need of patrons, at least at a glance. I was really tempted to get a library card, but for some reason I denied my nerdiness and didn’t 😦
Washington Square Park was my next adventure. Vendors, fortune tellers (specifically the guy sitting on a stone bench, wearing a pointy hat made of aluminum foil and a purple cape), lunchbreakers, and thousands of pigeons claim sports throughout this park. The set up of the water fountain is probably my favorite part. The jazz bands are my second favorite. The Village as a whole is part of the calmer nature of Manhattan and the literary and artistic hub of New York. The water fountain, from an aerial view, looks like a concrete donut with black marble frosting. Lots of tourists flood in throughout the day. Today, there was a pair of men sitting on one of the benches, surrounded by flocks of pigeons. They looked like the plural masculine version of the Little Old Bird Woman from Mary Poppins. As I walked towards them, one man, whose hair resembled Animal’s from the Muppets, was yelling to the pigeons, “Come on, boys! Get on over here!” It was funny and there was a large group of people taking pictures and videos.
The Washington Arch stands tall and formidable on the (from where I was sitting) left side of the fountain. On it is this quote: “Let us raise a standard to which the wise and the honest can repair. The event is in the hand of God.” -George Washington. Seeing monuments like this one reminds me of the history that thrives and waits in this old city that tries so hard to look brand new. What does New York City really take pride in? Is it history? Is it wealth? Is it image? Is it trade? I really want to find the answer to this question! Research!!!
Today I basically did what I want to do as a career (secondary to or paired up with writing Christian fiction): travel to places that I’ve never been and write about them. No, “traveling” doesn’t necessarily have to be to a different country…it can be as close as Connecticut Muffin.
Tomorrow it’s back to school…sometimes, after a day of exploring, I forget that I’m a student attending college instead of an adult roaming the city. Hmph. But I mean, at least I only have two midterms while most of my friends are going through about five or six, and at least I’m not being forced through foundation courses that I already took in high school. I’m glad I get to just jump into learning how to write well (or at least better) and do what I love 🙂
Despite how crazy things might get here, in this place where I’m on my own, whenever I remember the constant nature of and the comfort that comes with depending on God, I always feel right at home in a weird kind of way. It’s like, even though I’m not physically at home, God, because He’s familiar to me, is my home. When I miss my home and my family most, that’s when God comes in and proves to me that He’s here for a reason, an ever present comfort. And then I think, “Why does God feel the need to prove anything to me? He’s God.” And then I realize it’s because He loves me….yeah, He loves me.
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” Habakkuk 3:17,18 ESV