Next time I see London, I hope that I see you.

Hello dear readers and friends, 

I am writing from a coffee shop in an old church in East London. It’s the perfect cozy escape from the cool rain outside. I can hear the low hum of voices around me as acoustic guitar pours out through the speakers. I have found my safe haven, a place to come and write. 

Though I have shared glimpses of it in previous posts, today I want to tell you how I got to London. There is much more to come, but so far it has been a story of risk, trust, and provision. I’m excited to get to share it with you. 

One year ago, I watched a beautiful, magical, perfect rom-com called Love at First Sight on Netflix. If you haven’t seen it, you must. It’s actually so precious. (Ok, this is starting to sound like a commercial…). Before that point, the UK had never been on my travel radar. Sure, I was charmed by British accents and loved One Direction (#TeamNiall) and the Queen as much as anyone, but much higher on my list were oceanside escapades in Australia, South Africa, or Central America. The land of tea and crumpets was going to have to wait. 

The funny thing is that I have long believed that God uses pop culture to speak to me. He knows that it’s something I love and, therefore, is one of the most direct lines to my heart. Sometimes, these moments come with a call to action accompanied by a feeling that is impossible to describe but that I always know is from him. My priorities began to shift as I watched my screen that October afternoon. Suddenly, London felt like a sparkly place full of wonder and opportunity. By the time an hour and a half had passed, I was consumed by that familiar feeling. I knew that I would be living in London the following year.

 

During this same time, I was, obviously, reeling from very painful life events and was increasingly discontent at work. If you’ve read my words over the past couple of years, you know I’ve felt stuck. I often use sticky notes to capture thoughts or ideas and, not long ago, I found a sticky note from that time. My rushed pencil scrawl told of how impossible it was to get up off the ground because my bones literally felt like they were melting, forming a puddle of what used to be me. I felt hopeless as my limited energy spilled out in all the wrong directions leaving me flattened and desperate. I needed an out, but I could not create one.

Enter trust. You know when you want something but don’t think it’s going to happen for you so you start taking control of it on your own? But like, not in a discerning, wise, one-step-at-a-time way. More in an impatient let’s speed this thing along way? Well, that’s me most days. In preparing for this season, I had a lot of conversations about trust. And in having these conversations I noticed that, sometimes, because I can be more irrational than my peers (life’s just more fun that way!), people think I’m a bigger risk-taker than I am. They also tend to think that I’m more trusting in God and his promises for my life than I am. The truth is, I’ve never had to put much on the line to take a risk. I’ve taken very calculated risks when I was confident I would succeed (so, basically, not a risk at all). This is different. I had to put a lot on the line to come here. I tell my friends all the time that you can’t trust God if you never give him the space to show that he’s trustworthy. And yet, my default is usually, “I trust him, but only when I’m in control.” I suppose it’s time for me to take my own advice. Here are some examples of how he has been faithful as I have taken steps forward in trust: 

When I began my quest, I didn’t know a single soul in the UK, let alone London. And then I was randomly connected (through the internet) to a woman living in Cornwall, often working in London, who had grown up a stone’s throw away from me in Southern California, was doing similar work to what I wanted to be doing, and shared mutual friends. And then my parents started going to a new church. Well, guess what? The brand-new pastors were fresh off the plane from the greater London area. And then my team at work merged with another team whose marketing person had just moved from London. And then one of my best family friends connected me with someone she had mentored who moved to Southern California from London. And then… And then… And then… All of the humans mentioned and not have been incredibly generous with me in their own ways. They’ve given me new friends, arranged transport from the airport, provided emergency contacts while I’m here, and shared opportunities for creative endeavors. From not a single soul to a budding community. I needn’t be afraid. 

I wasn’t sure how or when to leave my job. I recognized the complete impracticality of it and also felt guilty for abandoning a beautiful group of humans who had allocated so many resources for me and my future with them. I prayed and prayed and finally had peace about the timing. When I hit send on the resignation letter that literally took months to craft, I was almost instantly met with the most gracious, loving, kind, and supportive responses. There were many other examples of why his timing for leaving my job was perfect that I would share with you if you were sitting across from me in this café. Until then, know that every stepstone on the path felt like confirmation that I was headed in the right direction. 

At many points in this journey, I have felt anxious about money. I had saved juuuuussttttt barely enough to spend three months here with no plans beyond that (and, to be clear, by just barely enough I mean probably not enough but I was going to risk it). I felt so panicked at one point that I started looking into side hustles. In that frenzy, he met me and his calm words reverberated in my mind, “What if I just want to bless you?” Every time I start to freak out (which was/is often), God shows me that he’s got me covered. Knowing I was leaving, my boss gave me a substantial raise so that I could have a little extra padding on my way out the door. Friends and family have been exceedingly generous towards me in the exact moments that I needed it. Things that I thought would be super expensive turned out to be relatively affordable and various refunds and payouts came through at the perfect time. In a way, it’s sort of beautiful that I don’t technically have “enough” because it means I have to trust him enough to provide.

I hit dead ends with housing for months before my departure, always believing that God would provide in his own timing. Well, ok, not always. I started stressing when I was less than a month away from jumping on a plane and still didn’t have a place to live. Opportunities presented themselves to me but none of them felt right. I had chosen to wait instead of choosing the sure thing and that felt scary and vulnerable. Suddenly, I was connected to a friend of a friend who had the perfect place for me! It was wonderfully located, familial, and next to green space. It was so promising. And then it fell through. Scrambling to find a plan b as the clock wound further and further down, I stumbled across an online listing for a home on a kinda sketchy website and sent a message to the girls living there. They responded right away and offered me the room only a few days later. And get this, I’m living in Southeast London (which is exactly where I wanted to be) in a bedroom that matches the colors and style of my carefully curated room at home AND am living with wonderfully creative women who love Jesus too (um, did I mention that part of this journey is to let the creativity back into my life?). I thought I had the sure thing, the best thing, but it turns out that God had something even better for me. I’ve noticed that that happens a lot in life – sometimes when we think we have the thing, there’s something more magical on the other side.

Two days before I left for England, our new pastor friends literally emptied their pockets of all they had that would support me while here. I was overwhelmed by their selfless generosity and by God’s example, yet again, that he is trustworthy. These are just a few examples, but there are so many more that I could share (like the great medical supplies debacle!) that demonstrate this.

So here I am. In London. I spent so much energy trying to get here and now I have no idea what I’m doing here. It feels scary, unfamiliar, weird, exciting, and lonely. But maybe, just maybe, these are the perfect ingredients for trust.

Three things that I’m holding onto as I move forward in this journey:

1) I was reading Exodus as I prepared for this new adventure and was struck by how God provides exactly what’s needed, exactly when it’s needed – not too soon and not too late. I have reminded myself of this truth every time stress tears start leaking out of my eyes. Ok, this truth and the truth that Chrissy Metz had only 81 cents in her bank account when she booked This is Us and became a big star but… God first, am I right ladies?

2) Not only do I not know what this specific period of my life is going to look like, but I also have no idea what’s coming after it. I don’t know where home will be or what work will look like or what community I’ll have. For someone who bleeds for her family, this uncertainty and aloneness feels petrifying. But then I am reminded, “And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life” (Matthew 19:29). Let’s not get it twisted, this verse isn’t about ditching out on marriages or kids, but it is about pursuing God first above all else and believing that he will bless you and others through it. I need that hope, that certainty, in my rapidly changing world.

3) I had a long drive ahead of me on a day when I was particularly struggling to trust, so I put on a random playlist. It was a curated Spotify something-or-other of songs they recommended for me so I had no idea what was coming next. I had been on the road for weeks (I sound like a touring musician or something, but truly it felt like I was on a bi-coastal “see you later” tour from when I left my job to when I left for England) and was tired and scared of what was coming next. As the music played, I prayed that God would use the next song to tell me whatever it was he wanted me to hear. Look, I know that it was a strange request and that God is not a Magic 8 ball, but I also believed that he would meet me where I was and again use pop culture to make himself known. The next song that played was “Big Plans” by Why Don’t We. Give it a listen. It could not have been more perfect.

Dearest ones, this is it for now. But there is more to come soon. I hope this encouraged you, whether you love Jesus or can’t stand him, and reminded you that big things are possible and that kindness and generosity lurk around every corner. As with many of my writings, I wrote this for you. But really, I wrote it for me so that in my next sobbing-on-the-floor-because-the-world-is-ending moment I could be reminded of God’s provision. Guess I’ll be re-reading this tomorrow. 

Xo, 

Abbey

Titular Song: London by Wrabel and Cam