Finding Lydia

Chapter 2: The Path Less Traveled

Biblical Verse: Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

The following weeks passed in a blur of routine, the same rhythm Lydia had grown so accustomed to, yet now, something felt different. It wasn't that her family had changed—they still expected the same from her: to follow in their footsteps, to settle into the familiar life they all led. But inside, a restlessness began to stir in Lydia's heart. Her conversation with Sarah and her mother lingered in her mind. It was as if their questions—"What do you want?" and "What will you do?"—had planted a seed of discontent that was slowly growing, pressing against the walls of her heart.

Lydia spent more and more time alone in her room, writing and praying, searching for clarity. The small notebook she kept was filling up with ideas, story fragments, and thoughts about her future, but none of them seemed to fit the life she had always known. She wanted to write, yes, but not just for herself. Lydia longed to write something that mattered, that spoke to people's hearts the way God's Word spoke to hers.

One evening, while scrolling through her emails, a subject line caught her eye: "Call for Applications: Writer's Residency in the City". Lydia hesitated, her finger hovering over the mouse. A part of her felt foolish for even considering it. She had never left her small town for longer than a week, had never even lived outside the house she grew up in. But something about this opportunity—the chance to step into a world of writers and creators—pulled at her. She clicked on the email.

The residency was in the city, three hours away. It was a six-month program designed to nurture emerging writers, giving them space, mentorship, and community. Lydia's heart raced as she read through the details. This was everything she had dreamed of. The only problem? The thought of leaving her family and her community behind seemed impossible. And what would they think of her if she did? How could she explain this desire, this pull toward something unknown, something that seemed so... impractical?

Lydia closed the email, pushing the thought aside. She couldn't do it. Her mother would be disappointed, her siblings would never understand, and she wasn't even sure if it was the right thing to pursue. She was a woman of faith—wasn't her calling to serve her family, her church, and her community?

But the idea wouldn't leave her. The next morning, as she poured herself a cup of coffee, she couldn't stop thinking about it. The residency. The city. The chance to do something meaningful. The chance to see if there was more for her out there.

The kitchen was quiet, her family having already scattered for the day's tasks. Lydia set her coffee down and pulled out her journal, flipping to a blank page.

"God," she wrote, "I feel like I'm at a crossroads. I don't want to disappoint my family, and I don't know if this is just me chasing after my own desires, or if it's You leading me. But I keep thinking about this residency—about what it would mean to leave, to step into something new. If this is Your will, show me. Give me a sign, something that tells me I'm not just running away from my responsibilities."

She closed the journal and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel lost. She felt something else—a sense of anticipation, like a door was about to open. But could she walk through it?

That night, at dinner, the tension she'd been carrying finally boiled over. As her family discussed their usual topics—Andrew's upcoming promotion, Sarah's wedding plans—Lydia's mind was elsewhere. Her mother noticed.

"Lydia," Claire said, her tone gentle, "you've been awfully quiet lately. Is something on your mind?"

Lydia hesitated, then set her fork down. This was it. She had to speak. She had to be honest, even if it meant facing disappointment.

"There's something I've been thinking about," Lydia said, her voice steady, but her heart racing. "I... I found this writing residency in the city. It's six months long, and I've been considering applying."

Silence fell over the table. Sarah blinked in surprise, Andrew frowned, and her mother's hands froze in mid-motion.

"The city?" Claire asked slowly, her brow furrowing. "For six months? What about church, and... your place here?"

"I know it sounds sudden," Lydia continued, her pulse pounding in her ears, "but I've been praying about it. Writing has always been something I've felt called to do, and this residency could be an opportunity to pursue it seriously. I feel like... like maybe God is leading me there."

Her father, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "But Lydia, are you sure? The city isn't like it is here. There are a lot of temptations, a lot of distractions. You don't want to lose sight of your faith."

Lydia nodded, understanding their concern. But how could she make them see? This wasn't about running away from her faith—it was about living it out in a way that felt true to who she was. She had always followed the path set before her, but for once, she felt like God was asking her to step onto a path that was uniquely hers, even if it didn't look like everyone else's.

"I've thought about that," Lydia said, "and I don't think this would take me away from God. In fact, I think it might bring me closer to Him. I feel like I need to do this—to see what else He has for me. I'm not abandoning my family, or my faith. I'm just... stepping into something new."

Her mother sighed, setting her napkin down on the table. "Lydia, I know you've always been different—more quiet, more thoughtful. But do you really think leaving us, leaving your church, is what God wants? You have everything you need here—a community that loves you, a family that supports you. Why chase after something so uncertain?"

Lydia's heart ached at her mother's words. It wasn't that she didn't love her family, or that she wanted to leave them behind. But how could she explain that staying felt like slowly suffocating, like she was burying the dreams God had placed in her heart?

"I don't know what's going to happen," Lydia admitted, her voice soft but firm. "But I can't ignore this feeling, this calling. I've prayed, and I keep coming back to the same answer. I need to try."

Her father looked at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with concern. "Lydia, we trust you. We just don't want you to get hurt. But if this is something you truly believe God is calling you to, then we won't stand in your way. Just promise us you'll stay true to who you are."

Lydia blinked back tears, nodding. "I promise."

The next day, Lydia submitted her application. As soon as she hit "send," a wave of fear and excitement washed over her. There was no turning back now. The decision had been made, and whatever came next, she would face it with faith.

The weeks of waiting were agonizing. Every time she checked her email, her stomach knotted. What if she wasn't accepted? What if she was, but it wasn't what she expected? The questions spiraled through her mind, but Lydia clung to her prayers, asking God for patience and peace.

Then, one morning, it arrived: the email that would change everything. Lydia's hands trembled as she opened it, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Congratulations, Lydia Matthews! We are pleased to offer you a place in our upcoming Writer's Residency."

Her breath caught in her throat. This was it. The door had opened, and God had given her the sign she had prayed for. But as the excitement surged through her, so did the fear. Was she really ready for this? Could she leave everything she knew behind?

Lydia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wasn't ready. But maybe that was the point. Maybe God wasn't calling her to be ready—He was calling her to trust.