The hope and grief of the city

New Yorkers constantly describe their feelings by saying they’re exhausted or drained. It’s a hard city to live in, everyone says vaguely, and New Yorkers nod weighty nods.

It’s not an issue of not having a yard (It’s not a big deal at all; there are apartments everywhere) or of people being exceptionally rude (they’re really not, though more people makes rude ones statistically more prevalent) or of it being fast-paced per se. It’s grief.

No other city will play on hopes the way NYC does. For people wanting to be stars, wanting to work on Wall Street, wanting to work in journalism or publishing, wanting to change the world - this city promises possibility and entices you to work harder, try harder, and seize everything before you. The sheer volume of possibilities here is intoxicating. You literally walk past hundreds of open doors every day. I’ve never been in a place that offers so much, so constantly.

But nor have I ever been in a city that disappoints so often. People here are in a near-constant state of grief. Favorite restaurants closing, job loss, friends moving away, rent increasing abruptly and forcing a move, expectations for what you’ll get done by the end of the day, expectations for your morning commute, seeing people suffering, relationships lacking intimacy… I feel like, in other cities, there are breaks, but here, every day, hopes and expectations are painfully shattered again and again.

There is no pretense of controlling one’s own life in NYC. So I suppose it can produce hardened people, but more often, I see it making strong, weary hearts, who continue to open up and be broken with no breaks.

Articulating it as “exhaustion” is just a helpful shortcut.

I’ve never felt so compelled to pray as when I live here. I empathize with this city of open, hurting hearts. And when I walk around, full of joy, it’s because I can’t help but feel hope. Beautiful children, intimate moments between friends, passionate people creating art, family-owned businesses, breathtaking views of what humans can build glittering in the sunset as far as the eye can see…

This is a city that whispers, “You were made for more,” and then smacks you and says “You’re not strong enough.” I think people respond positively to the gospel because the whole city is strangely primed for it! New Yorkers await the relief of the good news.

God’s love here is overwhelming, but also intimate. He sees into every tiny window,

How itty-bitty I am in the face of this place! So I cry out to Him constantly.

There’s no other place on earth like it.

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