Christchurch

The famed lunette (procured on my first day in Christchurch, of course) 

This was going to be a different kind of post. I began it two days ago, fresh off the plane and full of thoughts on airports and arrivals and apathy. "Quippy" might have characterised its tone, with a dash of "biting" thrown in. After the past few days, though, my voice has taken on a different quality. "Grateful" makes for a much sweeter sound, as does "humble". I find myself singing a new, gentle song. 

***

I came back to Christchurch with my guard firmly up. The memory of Malaysia lingered long, and I was keen to be in and out, no unnecessary dalliances with the past or future in family conversations. The present was to be tackled with a grim, let's-get-on-with-it attitude. As you can imagine, I was a delight to be around. As time went on, however, and my brothers coaxed me out on excursions and rightly poked fun at my too-serious attitude, I found myself experiencing not just the usual potent mix of nostalgia and claustrophobia that hits me as soon as I step off the plane, but genuine, profound joy. 

This is grace, of course; God alone has granted me perspective, the ability to forgive my family, and a renewed hope when it come to relationships, familial or otherwise. I left Auckland in something of a state, having passed a harder-than-usual birthday and feeling like my future, in all ways but one (work), was unsteadier than ever. Arriving in Christchurch, to a family that loves me when I am glum, and seeks to cheer me up and call me on, has been a gift. 

***

Being on holiday here has provided more space than I have been able to find recently. My Christchurch mornings have been slow, and I have allowed myself the luxury of waking up without an alarm. I have moved through the day at a sometimes-glacial pace, and haven't felt bad about doing so. I have been on walks to Halswell Quarry and thrillingly-fast runs around my flat neighbourhood. I have read - a lot - and picked up new books that have challenged and invited me into newer levels of ambition and intimacy with and for God. I have fallen asleep on two separate occasions during Spider Man: The Boring Multiverse or whatever it's called (sorry, brothers). 

The days have been sunny, the catch-ups delightful, and the lunettes (my favourite French pastry, which despite having conducted a thorough search, I cannot find in Auckland), delicious. The past six days have, in short, allowed me to breathe. All that crisp Canterbury air has been good for my being. 

***

Tonight, I spent the afternoon and evening with M & L. No matter how much time has passed, we can pick up where we left off, old and new jokes flowing easily as we navigate the strangely-bustling Christchurch streets. We stop off at a couple of op-shops in New Brighton, where I find a denim jumpsuit, continuing my ongoing transformation into Jumpsuit GirlTM .  We then head to C1 in the city; one of the only cafés that's still open at this hour of the day. Over curly fries and hot chocolates, we debrief jobs and family, relationships and dating. 

I share with them a situation I'm not sure about, one in which the road forks off into two vastly different options: take a leap of faith into the unknown, or remain in the land of hypotheticals. Sitting forward in her velvet-lined seat, M makes her case: "Hypotheticals don't matter - it's the real that counts. You can't live in a world of hypotheticals." The truth of this hits me almost violently. She's right, and yet, am I brave enough to trade in my unknown yet safe hypothetical for a risky-either-way truth? 

M & L & I have known each other long enough to make it through some hard times and hard conversations. Our interactions tonight weren't without conflict, but we worked through them carefully and in good faith, as friends do. I hugged them both goodbye and thanked God again that I have their funny, thoughtful, whip-smart presence in my life. 

***

I am back in Auckland now - the Promised Land or something like it. It's certainly been land that has stretched me in unexpected ways. The next few days will bring a return to normalcy (or something like it) and I will go back to my early-morning starts and late work finishes. The anxiety that fell off me in Christchurch is worming its way back into my chest again - but I find myself fleeing back to the Lord and pleading for him to alleviate it. I know he will, and that he's at work in me. 

The cool Canterbury air may be a distant memory, but the peace that it brought doesn't have to be. Long may it linger.