Where Can I Go? Where Can I Flee? Pt. 0

Part 0 (Running Away) — Part 1 (The Pyramids) — Part 2 (Beaches and Caves)

Who’s That Girl?

It’s hard to say “___ was Cassie’s favorite thing.” That’s because 1) she would say I didn’t listen well enough to actually know what her favorite was, 2) when she loved anything, she really loved it. It’s hard to actually say what she was more passionate about in any given category. But I will say that as far as TV sitcoms with female leads go, New Girl was definitely her favorite. It may have been her all-time favorite TV show, and Zooey Deschanel was probably her favorite actor.

Jess, the main character in New Girl, was a character that Cassie loved to relate to—the jokes, the quirks, the singing, the working with kids, the awkwardness, the way she influenced her friends. She followed the show devoutly. Just like quotes from the show made their way into Cassie’s conversations, Jess’s experiences made their way into her dreams of the future.

For example, the episode All In: Jess starts to commit to a relationship with her roommate, Nick, who she is destined to be with. They make up after a tumultuous couple of episodes, decide to be “all in,” and start driving home. But as soon as they get back to the front door of their apartment, everything starts to feel wrong. Everything seems to be moving too fast, their lives are otherwise in shambles, and their friends’ lives are falling apart too. So what do they do?

They run away to a Mexican beach and live out of the back of their car for four days straight. Naturally! This was one of the highlights of the entire series for Cassie. Whenever Cassie would feel overwhelmed, she would look at me and say, “Let’s just run away to Mexico.”

An Unknown Person in Unknown Places

When I lost Cassie, I lost the feeling of being known by someone. Without me saying a word, she could know exactly what I was thinking or what I was feeling. When she passed, I was suddenly set adrift into an ocean of strangers—or at least, I felt like a stranger in a sea of people. Who could see my heart and my thoughts like Cassie could? And who could relate to my soul like she did?

All this leads to unexpected feelings of overwhelming loneliness that I just can’t quite express to other people. My dog, my friends and family surrounding me, and the apartment full of reminders of Cassie usually keep me from feeling too lonely. But nevertheless, floods of negative emotion blindside me when I least expect it. I lose almost all motivation. I don’t want to get out of bed, nor do I want to go back to bed when it is time to. In those moments I am constantly frustrated at little things like having to take my dog out or having to water my plants. The feeling gradually fades and soon enough I wake up feeling on top of the world again, just like I do before being struck by the wave of grief.

Last Monday, I woke up feeling fantastic and full of energy. I had a bunch of friends over for a frenzied dinner. It was a lot of fun—until they all left. And I didn’t. I was alone in an otherwise empty apartment again. It was an apartment I didn’t want to be in anymore. It was full of work that I still haven’t gotten around to doing yet. And to top it off, I was simmering in self-disappointment from not applying to anywhere near as many medical schools as I planned. Other applicants are already receiving acceptance letters or are on their way to interviews. Yet there I was, having barely submitted a couple handfuls of applications and not hearing anything back yet.

So I decided then and there to run away. I had been thinking about Mexico a lot. It seemed like the perfect time for it. I made a couple calls, found a dog-sitter and a ride to the airport. Next thing I knew, I had bought the tickets and was on a plane to Mexico 8 hours later.

If I Settle On The Far Side Of The Sea

As soon as I got back from this impromptu trip, I was asked to teach a Sunday school class about identity. The lesson drew from King David’s lines in Psalm 139:

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

The verses speak to how the Lord knows us better than we know ourselves. Even as we try to hide from who we are, God knows how to deal with us best. Even as we try to run from the problems we are faced with, God knows how to deal with those problems best. My poorly made plans didn’t go as I intended them to. But I am thankful for that.

A 45-minute layover turned into a 7-hour layover—but I was able to spend time with a friend I haven’t seen in months. I tried to run away from the feelings evoked by med school applications–but my feelings turned from disappointment to joy as I received my first invitation to interview. My (horribly thought out) plans to escape loneliness by going to a country where I barely speak the language didn’t quite work out—but the new plans I was forced to make led to making awesome friends who could relate on levels my friends at home couldn’t. As I tried to run away from the things God has called me to do at home, I found myself constantly running towards God’s people in the strangest places abroad.

Sure, I am left feeling isolated at times. Grief can bury us under a mess of emotions that no one else understands. But it helps to know that the Lord still understands us in the most intimate ways. When we run away or turn out the lights to hide, our God can guide us even from there. We can run to strange cities, to foreign shores, to ancient temples built to other gods, even to underground caves; our God will reach out to us there. Know that even when we feel surrounded by darkness, even when we feel filled with darkness, there is a God who sees our path clearly, and who sees us clearly.

Part 0 (Running Away) — Part 1 (The Pyramids) — Part 2 (Beaches and Caves)