It never rains in Southern California.

Getting lost in the rain: Southbound to Downtown LA.  

Hello, CA.

Just a few hours of being in L.A. and already, life is giving me lemons & teaching me lessons... but I'll have to save the story of the most interesting road trip (which is really relevant for Advent) for another rainy day.

I spent my first two days of being here learning how to use the train, how to get to the nearest church, and which cozy coffee shop (and by coffee shop, I really mean Starbucks) to spend the day doing work. Needless to say, I did all of that while being soaked in the rain, too! In between finding my essentials for work, I managed to see old friends, make new ones, and try new places like Philippe's dipped sandwiches (Beef sandwich with a side of potato salad), Islands (Kilauea burger), and Salt & Straw (Single split of Sea salt and vanilla with caramel ribbons & Almond brittle and salted ganache.) Thank you, Yelp and Google Maps!

I'll only really be here for a week and a half before I go back to Dallas for Christmas... but it's been the most eventful week of my life thus far (even more eventful than that time I had 2 term papers and 3 finals all in one day!) Just as there is much you can learn from other people, there's also an abundance of wisdom to be gained from silence and solitude. It's a good thing for me to spend this time here now before the work load picks up and alone time becomes a rarity.

The silence and solitude has taught me that as much as we are communal and relational beings, we are also distinct individuals. As concrete persons, we have to care for and nourish our souls just as we do our physical bodies. We have hopes and dreams, scars and fears, and a burning longing deep within our souls. These unseen, beyond-the-physical desires and experiences nourish and fulfill our spiritual needs. If we leave the needs of our spirit unnoticed, we will turn quickly to the second-rate distractions of life -- to anything less than what completes us or what makes us whole. It is in silence and in solitude that I find myself most uncomfortable with facing the real questions that need real and honest answers in my life. In a necessary and honest inventory of myself, I have to ask myself why I'm doing what I do and choosing to stay where I am over and over again. Not in an over-analytical, overly rationalizing way, but in a way to make sure I am being real with myself and that I am staying committed to the pursuit of becoming a truer person.

I'm 23 years old, and I've never felt younger in my life. I've never felt more ignorant of the world that I've been living in. I've never felt more of a stranger. I've never felt more uncertain. Despite of all these feelings, much silence and listening to my own thoughts, I can say with conviction that I am where I'm supposed to be. Everything is vague in this grueling, gut-wrenching, tear-jerking, and most of all, adventurous process of discernment and discovery... until you make a decision. Until you choose an actual path. The best way we can be confident of where we are in our lives, no matter the trials that come our way, is if to make the point of our existence anywhere be a means by which people can encounter love, joy, peace: Christ himself... and in turn somehow, their own path.

While I discover clarity, direction, and answers in silence, it is in solitude that I find myself tested the most. It is when no one is looking or giving you praise for your decisions, when you have nothing to prove to anyone. When all you have to do is be. Solitude makes it a point that we must fulfill our purpose whether or not anyone recognizes you for it. We must fulfill our purpose with or without the approval of another -- except for God himself. Solitude has not made me more capable of being alone, but rather, it has made me more capable because I am continuing to learn the significance of God alone. 

This is only the beginning... and it's funny because I know that this is in medias res -- in the midst of things. So much had to happen before for me to be here only to prepare me for what's next. But what's next is for the future, I'm here today, and it's undeniably a new beginning. It's only been a few weeks of this newness, of this particular chapter, and, already, I'm swimming in the abundance of God's blessings. When it rains, it pours... even here. Especially here.

Up next: Saying hi to Arizona!

+JMJ+