Me, Manhattan, and Expensive Room Service

Work Life took me to Manhattan this past week. I saw glamour and lights and unstoppable dreams. There was a gimpse of anticipation in the air that you know many had breathed in before. Many who were now probably a step ahead of where they thought they would one day be.

Maybe they drive Ferraris and Maseratis and live in the middle of Manhattan, taking in the best of what NYC could offer. Maybe they acheived the promotion of their lifetime and gained full access to the best of NYC night life, where the world does not sleep. 

Maybe. A million maybes.

But the moment my airplane landed and I arrived at the hotel, I closed the door of my room and cried. In the middle of Manhattan. In the largest city in the country. The 25 year old me, cried and hugged her pillow. Because I wanted home. I wanted to feel safe and protected, as I always do. 

But these moments are meant to teach us something. That as independant and sufficient as we may be, the thirst we have inside for being close to God, does not cease. 

No matter where you are. Regardless of who is watching.

And I was relieved. That I felt that yearning to pray. To be alone. Just me, God, and my NYC hotel room. 

And I also learned that as stressed as one could be, very expensive room service actually does help relieve some of the pain. Thank you Jesus, and thank you Current Employer, for paying for my expensive dinner.