Honestly...

A look at what I am currently learning

Upon reading Calvin Miller’s memoir I am finding a deep realization sinking in amidst a hard week of struggling to feel at peace with my two current jobs. I can love Christ and not NEED the church. He is everything I need and Christian employment and involvement will not complete me.

Ever since I was in high school, I have found a lot of validation in Christian service. I was an odd ball at my high school who wore clothes that were too big on an oddly shaped awkward body. I didn’t listen to the same music or watch the same movies and I generally felt a little tense walking down the halls of my high school because I knew I was surrounded by wolves. Not that these kids had a bigger sin nature than me but I knew they would defend their popularity no matter the cost and if I was to offend or endanger that popularity I would be put down in order for them to climb up.

I know this because I was a wolf in my preteen years and every once in a while I find my wolf like tendencies come out again. I can even be wolfish in my marriage. “No honey, we can’t do that! Do you know what they will think of us?” More than half the reason I didn’t kiss or have sex before marriage is because I had a rather prudish and overly spiritual reputation to keep up.

I am a people pleaser. I come by it honestly as I am one of a long line of people pleasers. My great grandmother never stepped out of the house without a girdle and a face full of clay. My grandma still thinks she is overweight at probably 130 pounds. While I love these ladies I can see how ridiculous their obsession is and yet I have justified my own for so long.

In college, I went to a small church and I loved it, mostly. Yet I also had this niggling fear that I would one day screw up and they would realize that I am wholly imperfect, have all sorts of wrong thoughts, can be extremely judgmental and all in all just don’t have it all together.

By the grace of God, I married a man who doesn’t worry about these things like I do. He is somehow his own unique, beautiful and flawed human being a he is ok with people knowing it. He doesn’t have to be the coolest person and he is not afraid to make a fool of himself. He even sings loud and off key in church while I worry about what the people in front of us are thinking. He is worshipping and I am worrying.

When I graduated, I had no doubts I would work in some sort of holy job. I went to China and lived in a community of sinners and I learned that forgiveness is more important than appearances. One of my teammates would frustrate me so and I learned to ask forgiveness even when she didn’t know I needed. I learned that quick forgiveness is much more freeing that austere perfection.

Yet I returned to the states and some of those hard lessons seemed to melt away. I still needed to keep up my reputation, to impress and to show the world just how good of a person I was. Funny thing is- Jesus didn’t come to save the good. He came to save the broken and I was certainly that. I just didn’t want to admit it. So we went to church at the same place after marriage and my beloved learned first hand how poisonous my obsession with reputation was. The majority of our early arguments were not about sex or even money (although we have had a few of those) they were about being late to church.

We sat through a good many worship songs brooding about the fight we had and not really focusing or worshipping.

Again by God’s grace we moved to Houston. It isn’t that I don’t love that little church, it is that I needed a new fresh and white canvas. Hubby and I needed a new start where I wasn’t so bound my people’s expectations. Its been marvelous and painful. I feel the need to find a church because I crave the community. At the same time it has been wonderful to find our own rhythm. We can sleep in if that is the healthy option and I don’t whine and complain about what people will think if we aren’t there. We can garden on Sunday and worship God in the absolute splendor of his creation.

But there is still one thing that I haven’t fully surrendered and perhaps it is the hardest one. As I said, I thought I would certainly work in some sort of holy career where I could save thousands of people from the pit of hell, have lots of spiritual children and make everyone’s life a little better.

Last week I started working at an Christian ESL school. It is an uncomfortable and uprooting process but I have felt so many of my precious and tightly held presuppositions cracked, shattered and blown to smitherines. We have students from all over the world with every religion you could possibly imagine thrown into the mix. It is a true melting pot. It should be my dream job but I starting to wonder if such a thing really exists.

I feel like I don’t belong. I am trying to be what they expect of me but I guess I am sort of tired of putting on airs. So I don’t always laugh at their jokes and I see the problems of disorganization and poor management and I can’t help but want to change them. It isn’t ok with me that this is how they have always done things. I see the injustice and for once I am slowly losing my affection for a good reputation.

All I can see is the opportunities being squandered. I can feel the tension in the classroom, in the whole building. There are high hopes from professors to shed the light of Christ on these pagan students. And yet, I am looking in their eyes and seeing true joy, hope, light. I always thought non-believers would have dead eyes- no joy. I was wrong. And I am struggling with this: They don’t seem to really need what I have to give. From a theological standpoint I know they do. I am still unyielding in my belief that Jesus is the only way to true Life. The problem is that it is getting harder to reconcile my theology with my experiences. I know what they say: You must let your theology define your experiences and not your experiences define your theology. But they are all sitting in comfortable offices teaching truths that are much harder to live.

They haven’t met my incredible refugee students that I teach in the apartment complex downtown. You have never seen such open-faced gratitude, such simple child like joy and contentment. They have been through hell living in refugee camps and now starting over in a foreign country, yet they laugh with sweet abandon when I act-a-fool trying to explain English.

I wanted to do something Holy, Great, Meaningful with my life. I wanted to be the Texas Mother Theresa. Yet I am realizing her work wasn’t really very glorious. It was stinky and frustrating, tiring and heartbreaking. It was probably pretty mundane and people probably thought she was crazy. Here I am filing more papers than I ever cared to and trying to figure out exactly what I am supposed to be doing and finishing eleven hour days with sore feet and not much in my tank (emotional, spiritual, physical and gas tanks).

So I am praying and seeking to find if this current job is really the place where I am to stay. Meanwhile, I am trying to figure out how to be content being me, or Me and Jesus and Hank, for the timebeing.

Biblical Headship and a Church

Hank and I are still ‘Church Shopping’ as he calls it and the more we shop the more picky we find we are. We want a place where we feel comfortable and at home, we want the people to be friendly but not overly so- in a natural and comfortable sort of way. We want solid worship with songs that have a message of truth not just relevance and repetition. We want a solid preacher who focuses more on the passages and what they say than the topic he picked and what he can find to back it up.

This morning we went to a church that seemed to fit all of those standards- CRAZY right?! Now I am not so naïve as to think it is perfect or that we won’t quickly discover problems if/when we join. Every church has issues just as every person has issues. The church is a lot of people so you just have to multiply the issues x number of  people and you’ll understand.

Nevertheless, we were immediately greeted at the door outside and again right after we entered. A very bald man with a huge smile pointed us in the direction of the coffee(always a good sign) and asked us about ourselves. We (I) got some coffee, talked with the hospitality people and headed into the sanctuary.  The lyrics of the music were mostly hymn-ish but the beat was something you could tap your toe to. We sang and the lyrics were all a message in themselves.

As part of the worship, the singers read scripture and one read in Spanish- the other in English. LOVE.

The pastor got up after worship and made his announcements. As he introduced the topic he said we would be delving into issues that were difficult to discuss. He was right! We started into 1 Cor 11:1-16 and immediately began talking about biblical headship in the marriage and church. I would normally be a bit on edge but he handled it in such a biblical, truthful and honest way. He didn’t apologize for the words of the apostle but showed the principles of modesty and love inherent in the separate roles of women and men. He showed the responsibility of men as reporting directly to Christ on the state of their home and the responsibility of women to let the men lead and to submit. It was soo good. He talked about how partnership and headship are each important in a biblical marriage just as we see them inherent in the relationship of Christ and the Father. They are equal in essence but different in function just as man and woman are.

I felt like he MUST have taken some classes from my bible profs. Hank leaned over several times and made references to the steps he was taking that lined up with the methods we were taught in Biblical Foundations at LeTourneau. “Ok now he is crossing the principalizing bridge…”

Recently I finished reading Calvin Miller’s memoir. It is called “Life is Mostly Edges” and it is honest, refreshing, convicting, funny, sad and triumphant all at once. It is a beautiful testament of a life lived for the Lord- failingly at times but nonetheless for His Glory.

In the end, Miller talks about why he feels the Lord calling him away from the ministry of pastoring a successful, growing and thriving church to become a seminary prof. He says that God called him away from the church for the sake of the church. He felt himself no longer what the church wanted and maybe even needed. He had always sought to be a scholar-pastor and what they wanted was a relevant community leader. They wanted, in many ways, someone who was more interested in the church softball league signups that the etymology of a specific word in Greek.

From his perspective, he saw that the church in the emergent movement became more interested in what culture was (and what their place was in it) than what culture should be.

I am not a student of the emergent church and I don’t claim to know much about the ins and outs of the short movement or the current movement we are in. But I think Miller has a point. I think relevance can somehow cheapen the faith by gravitating too much towards what we think the ‘outsiders,’ or the unsaved are looking for. If we become just like that concert they went to than do we really think they will come? The concert is a whole lot more fun and they don’t have to face a crowd of people they feel they don’t belong to.

When they come in, surely it will be truth that draws them. I am not sure that truth must take one form (ex. Hymns and expositional sermons) but it must be Truth with a capital T. It is the truth that Jesus loves but is also just that makes the mercy the more beautiful.

I found myself personally convicted because of the language I use in my own home with Hank. Sometimes I seem to think I am on this journey alone. I say things like “I won’t let our kids do that,” or bemoan our dirty house by saying, “I need to do the laundry and clean the kitchen.” Hank, in his sensitive yet firm way, says, “Dear, we will clean the kitchen together and we will do the laundry.”

I am not in this alone. I have a partner but I also have a man who is very much the captain of this ship. Sometimes it is scary to trust that he can lead us well but the more he loves, the more I trust and it all works out.

Thus I am going to work on changing my language and with it my attitude.

He is my partner but he is also the head of our home and I love him so much for that.

P.s. we were on time for church this morning. This is a major accomplishment and worth noting. J

Talking Rocks

I am not a big fan of being alone at home for long periods of time. I used to love it when my family would leave for the day and I could just read and read and read. I could usually go to sleep without too much trouble. But NOW that I am married, I hear every noise, every shifting of the house. I've been reading a Frank Peretti book off and on all day and my eyes are about to fall out of my skull.

     Today I felt the need to read something else. That familiar tug that drew me back to the Words that will endure forever, that will never lose relevance.

Randomly I started reading towards the end of Joshua, where God is parcelling out the land that he has given Israel. The details are so beautiful.

Joshua begins by setting up cities of refuge- where people who committed accidental murders could run and not be killed by the deceased person's family. It struck me how simple and yet beautiful God's plans are. He created peace by giving a sanctuary to those who had made such an aggegious mistake. He stopped the chain of events that would certainly be fueled by hate and grief and brought peace to the situation.

Then I kept reading. In Joshua 23, Joshua speaks his final words to Israel. He has come to the end of his life and he knows it. So he does what a father would do, what a leader would do, what any man who had shepherded a whole people group and followed in the footsteps of Moses would do...

He gives them their commission. Just as Moses gave him a great commission, he commissions the entire tribe.

"Soon I will die, going the way of all the earth. Deep in your hearts you know that every promise of the Lord your God has come true. Not a single one has failed! But as surely as the Lord your God has given you the good things he promised, he will also bring disaster on you if you disobey him. He will completely wipe you out from this good land he has given you. If you break the covenant of the Lord your Godby worshipping and serving other gods, his anger will burn against you, and you will quickly be wiped out from the good land he has given you." Josh 23: 14-16

First of all, how incredible is it that God brought every promise to fruition in the lives of his people? Wow. He kept his word completely in faithfulness. Second of all, Joshua is pretty blunt eh? No nonsense where disobedience is concerned!

After reminding the people of the faithfulness of God and the necessity to keep his covenant, he reviews the vast and complex history that brought them to where they are at that moment.
   He has labored and saved a complaining, moaning and rebellious people. God has extended grace upon grace.

"It was not your swords or bows that brought you victory. I gave you cities you did not build- the cities in which you are now living. I gave you vineyards and olive groves for food, though you did not plant them."
   Oh Lord, isn't that my prayer? That you would give me an inheritance in this place? That you would allow me to build upon the legacy others have left? That you would show me spiritual vineyards and olive groves ready for the picking?

Then Joshua gives the people a choice. God has been faithful to them despite everything. Everything.
Now the people have a choice. They can make a covenant with the Holy, Jealous God of the universe or they can turn to false gods. There really isn't a choice because God will destroy them if they take the latter and they will inevitably fail with the first option. But I can imagine that Joshua asked so that they were personally responsible for their commitment to God. It wasn't going to be their leader's faith or the Levites faith, they needed to own it if they were going to remain faithful once Joshua was gone.

The people chose to follow God(Smart choice) and Joshua made a covenant with the people "committing them to a permanent and binding contract between themselves and the Lord." (23:25b)

But Joshua was a smart leader. He knew how quickly people forget their commitments after an emotional experience. Perhaps he had struggled to stay faithful himself.
 
   So Joshua took a rock.

I have no idea why he took a rock but that is what he did.

He took a big ol' rock and rolled it under the oak tree, right where everyone would see it on the way to the tabernacle. There was no going to the meeting place of the Most High without remembering the commitment they had made.

This is the part I love.

"This stone has heard everything the Lord said to us. It will be a witness to testify against you if you go back on your word to God. "

Part of me thinks this is pretty funny. Common Josh, a stone?! Everyone knows rocks can't talk.... Isn't that where we get the expression, "dumb as a rock." But then I remember this. I remember that Jesus said if we are silent and don't proclaim is name, even the rocks will cry out! Maybe they aren't as dumb as we think.

Sometimes I forget to see the stone. Sometimes I forget that the very walls of this house hear and see my daily communion with God. These walls bear witness to the time I have spent just wasting time. They bear witness to my good intentions that never happen. They see my worship and my prayers but they don't see or hear those enough.

If these walls could talk I am not sure I would want to know what they have to say.

Have I forgotten the commitment, the covenant I made with the Jealous fierce warrior-King that loves me deeper and more fully than I can imagine?

It isn't the rock that is important but the remembering. It is grace that gives a reminder in the first place. Because He knew/knows that we would/will forget and so he surrounds us with reminders simple, clear and beautiful.

Let the walls of my house be rocks of remembrance. May the scriptures I put up be coordinates to guide my daily living.

Held

I'm listening to Natalie Grant's Held... It suddenly came into my head and I needed to listen to it.
 
    Again, he knows exactly what I need. Yesterday, I spoke with a friend who worked with me at the Shelter Youth Hostel in Amsterdam back in 08'. One of the sweet girls we served alongside passed away yesterday from brain cancer.

    We talked a little about how we remembered her; her joy, open-hearted friendship, the times we went on outings together, the funny things she said.

     I feel privledged to have know her. Kimberly befriended everyone. She had no enemies. She had this unique sense of humor and she loved to tease people. She would say "Hey Guys!" whenever she walked into a room full of her friends, so excited to see us and be there with us.

     Kimberly would tease some of the guys, calling on of our German friends "Jensy poo." He would also laugh and say something like, "Oh Kimberly. Gosh." At least that is how I remember it.

    We went to a museum outside of Amsterdam on one of days off. We took a ferry over to this incredible preserved dutch village where you could see the ocean and walk through houses like they used to be. We watched old fishermen making nets in a demonstration and stopped to eat the MOST incredible apple pie at a little cafe. We even found this old tower that looked like it belonged in a story book. It wasn't a museum but that didn't stop us from walking up the spiral stone steps just to see what was at the top.

   
     She was an adventurous one. On another weekend we went to Lisse to see the famous tulip gardens there. Several of us from the Shelter went and stayed with one of our dutch friends at her grandma's house. As we rode bikes out to the famous garden, we stopped and danced in some real tulip fields just because we could. We spun and spun until we were dizzy just for the joy of it.

That weekend we rode out to the ocean which wasn't too far away. It was growing dark and the boys went down the beach aways. You could hardly see anything and I felt the need to get in the ocean. So I made sure no one was looking, took off my top and ran into the ocean. It was cold! I will never forget how they all looked at me like I was crazy. I began to agree with them when I nearly froze on the ride back.
    
     While we worked together at the Shelter, Kimberly was struggling against some doubts with her faith. She didn't feel right sharing the Gospel when she was so filled with questions herself. It was incredible and challenging to talk to her about how she was grappling with her questions. Rather than ignore them, she faced them head on and worked through them. She went one weekend to L'Abri, a community where people study the word, garden, live together and promote Christ's love throughout the world. The place was a haven for scholars who would talk about the deeper issues of the faith and Kimberly went to seek wisdom.

  
   She came back so different. She was beautifully at peace and content with His love.
As Natalie Grant sings, it seems unfair that she should die so young and after suffering so long from cancer.

    I don't think it is a coincident that my reading this morning was in John, the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. I believe Jesus is still that powerful and can still raise people from the dead. And I asked why not Kimberly? Why not any of the people I have known to die too young?

    But somehow in His great love, I think he knows when it is better for them to stay in heaven. I can imaging getting to heaven and honestly, I don't think I would want to come back to earth after seeing what peace, joy, freedom we will have there. No more medicine, no more struggling, no more nausea, no more evil or pain.

    I am honestly not sure how Lazarus felt when he came back, but I think that is how I would feel.

While it is painful to think of her gone and  while her family is on my heart today, I am thankful because she was one precious lily of the valley.
    

        Hosea 14:4-7 (NIV) "I will heal their disloyalty; I will love them freely, for my anger has turned from them. I will be like the dew to Israel; he shall blossom like the lily, he shall strike root like the forests of Lebanon.... They shall again live beneath my shadow, they shall flourish as a garden; they shall blossom like the vine, their fragrance shall be like the wine of Lebanon."

Kimberly blossomed under the love of her sweet Savior, Jesus. It was evident to anyone who knew her that she was made free by His all-encompassing love. And she smelled sweet. People were drawn to her. They could sense that she held out love, free for the taking. It wasn't strange to see her talking to one of our guests at the front desk, answering their questions with a smile and often she would sit and talk with guests in the cafe, encouraging them and sharing truth.

Kimberly- after catching a snowflake on her nose when it first snowed.

This verse says it all.

2Cor 2:14-15 (NIV) But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ...

 

Kimberly didn't walk in the procession. She danced. And through her joy and friendship Christ spread the glorious fragrance of the knowledge of him. She is now a pleasing aroma in the Father's house and yet, her fragrance remains here as well. It remains with the ones she touched in Europe, in Colorado, in California. It will always remain with those who loved her and were loved by her.

 

 Natalie Grant's "Held"

Appointment

I found a writer's website today and they had a writing prompt for a short story up. I decided to try my hand at writing a short story from a prompt. Let me know what you think. Constructive Criticism is mostly appreciated, though I can't promise I won't be mad at you if you say you hate it, afterwards I will be thankful.

       It was a Monday and I was running late for my appointment. Again. Somehow every Monday came and went and it was the same story each time. I would wake with a gigantic headache and the feeling of dread would well up in my stomach at the thought of the day ahead.

        As I parked my old car at the foot of the hospital, it felt as though a cloud of gloom overshadowed me. It was a beautiful sunny day but it didn’t matter. All I could see was the face of the doctor again, like so many prophets, proclaiming my doom before I had even begun to fight.

    

         I stepped into the small, sterile waiting room and wondered, for the umpteenth time why they kept it so cold. A shiver ran through me and I hugged my purse against my middle in a weak effort to ward off the fears that always came. I tried to still the frantic thoughts going through my mind but to no avail. “What will he say this time? What if I have to go through more tests? What will Don say when he finds out the insurance won’t cover any more costs? How are we going to pay for this? What if he tells me the medicine isn’t working?” The questions came and shouted at me, each one overpowering my weak reserve to stay positive.

       Trying to shove the thoughts aside, I opened my purse for some kind of distraction. I usually brought a book for these appointments but had forgotten it in my haste to get out the door. Why do doctors always make you wait so long? Was it self-importance or ‘efficiency’ that caused them to make such long waiting lists? As I sifted through the contents that had all fallen prey to gravity and chaos in the bottom of the purse, I found a little piece of paper.  As I unfolded it, my breath caught in my throat.

      It was a little note from my youngest daughter, Emily, a testimony to the long hours she had spent learning to write cursive in her class the past month. Scribbled across the page with plenty of loops and flourishes, she wrote simply, “I love you Momma.” She had even drawn a picture of a rose at the bottom. At least it resembled a rose.

       Tears came unbidden and I looked up to see if anyone noticed. They seemed as wrapped up in their thoughts as I was mine. Slowly, I smiled and took a deep breath. I tucked the note back in my purse and thought about the conversation Emily and I had the night before. We have a few nightly practices that are nearly religious. Since Anna, my oldest, was a baby we have sung them to sleep with a hymn. Anna’s was “How great thou Art,” while we lulled Emily to sleep with “Fairest Lord Jesus.” Last night Emily was grumpier than usual when we finally wrestled her into bed. Don’s eyes were bloodshot from stress, anxiety and too many nights spent at the kitchen table discussing questions we had no answers to. He looked spent and was on his last reserves of patience with Emily.

       As we knelt down next to Emily’s bed, he gave me a weak smile and grabbed my hand. His eyes said we were in this together no matter what the outcome would be. We asked Emily to pray and her sweet voice came back to me as I sat in the waiting room. “Jesus, I am sorry. I know I wasn’t very good today and made Momma and Daddy sad. Jesus, I love you. Please heal Momma.  And help me to make Mrs. Peircings happy tomorrow by learning my letters. Amen.” When Emily looked up from her prayer she reached a hand up and patted my face. I was crying again, something that I seemed to always be doing these days. She patted my wet cheeks with her small hand and said, “I love you, Momma. It’s gonna be ok.” I smiled down at her and kissed her cheeks. No words would come so I looked at Don and he began to sing in his rich tenor, “Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of the Nations…”

     My throat closed at the sound and it was some time before I could join him to finish the song. Emily snuggled down into the covers and promptly fell asleep.

     I pulled out the note once more, amazed that my little one could know what I needed so badly. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks as the receptionist called my name. Perhaps it was enough right now to be surrounded by their love. Perhaps I was enough for them right now. I didn’t know what he would say but I knew I had sweet girls and the love of a good man waiting for me at home.

     I smiled, a rare occasion since my prognosis, and walked back into the exam room. As I did, the strands of that hymn filled my mind and heart and I sung softly again, “Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nations, O thou of God and man the Son, Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor, thou, my soul's glory, joy, and crown.”

He always knows what I need

*Update on the job search: I have applied to over 19 jobs in various fields. Still seeking which way I should go in the search. Have an appointment tomorrow to speak to someone about teaching ESL. Please pray!

   Today was one of those days where I had to choose to keep going, choose to have a good attitude, choose to believe in the seemingly impossible. It was one of those days when I heard so many lies I had to sing truth back into my marrow in order to just stay grounded. 

how I feel after all these job applications 

 

(photo of Hank and I at the Grand Canyon)

   This job searching is harder than I thought it would be. I was naive in believing a college degree would guarantee a job I loved. Well, I still believe that job is out there but I am learning a bit about adulthood and the tenacity needed to press through times like this where no's are more common that yes's.
 
     Funny though how Jesus knows exactly how I am feeling and what I need. In a particularly low moment this afternoon, Hank called me with fresh excitement in his voice. He had a new idea for me and couldn't wait to share it. This morning in the shower (great place to think right?), he had what he called an epiphany. He got this idea to start a blog/website/online community to help encourage and fan the flames of passion for marriage. So, that is what we are planning now. What would that community look like? I am not sure but I am excited to discover it.
   
   Part of me worries that we are being rather presumptuous. We have only been married four months (as of yesterday-YAY!) and we are still technically newlyweds. What do we have to share with older couples who had weathered the storms much longer than we? Perhaps instead of telling them what we think we can gather their voices into one grand chorus in a place where others might come for encouragement and to seek truth.

     So my question for you is this: What would you include in an online marriage community? If you were building it, what features would you want it to have (such as advice, polls, scripture study, stories etc)?
Any ideas are greatly appreciated.

      We want to share the passion we have with the world. Hopefully in sharing we will be able to continue to  be as excited about marriage as we are now.

Birthing Trust Babies

   In college, as a resident assistant, I had a saying. Whenever conflicts occured, because they do when 21 girls live together in a relatively small space, I would simply say I was making peace babies. It was a challenging experience because conflict resolution isn't something I really enjoyed, but the result was always worth it. Kind of like birth... Never done it but I hear that the baby makes it worth all the pain.

    I think I am spiritually preggo. I am feeling the need to be stretched, a bit uncomfortable, a bit out of my element.
  
   Control is something I like to have. It is uncomfortable to fathom not having any control over my situation, my surroundings or my future. These past few weeks I have filled out more job applications than I care to count. And recently I have gotten very very antsy and frustrated. I have no control over what happens with those applications. They could get skipped over. They could get thrown away or I could get a job. I have a measure of control over how many I fill out and the quality of my resume, but I can't guarantee a job with either one.

      I guess I have to trust. It is funny how I thought I was good at trusting until something bad happened, until I couldn't get a job and until we found we needed me to have one fairly soon. Now I am realizing how bad I am at trusting Jesus.

      I have heard it said that the best prayer is simply, "Help me!"
When I finally realize how much I need Jesus, then I actually start listening. This process hasn't been fun as I seek a job but if it births a trust baby in me, if it teaches me to listen to Jesus a little better and to stay on my knees even when things are going smoothly, then it is all worth it.

Restless for a Job Opportunity

     This past week the restlessness has set in. Before we moved, Hank mentioned the probably need to start looking for a job before we actually got to Houston. As a Pro-Procrastinator, I couldn't see the need for such hasty measures when I would assuredly have people knocking down my door and offering me a job... Or at least that is how I dreamed it would be.

    Turns out having a college degree and lots of community service hours isn't exactly what businesses are looking for. They actually want me to have job experience in the field. Oops.

     I have never worried about finding a job- never really felt the restlessness that comes from sending in lots of applications and not hearing. one. word from the employers. I second guess myself. Am I doing the right thing? Am I looking in the right places? Maybe I should search more broadly, maybe I should look for something more specific? Maybe I should settle with just getting a job at some local restaurant until I can find something more permanent?

    This job search is making me sort of crazy. I love getting to spend time at home with Hank but its getting to where my restlessness is making me (and Hank) stir crazy and I am not a whole lot of fun.

   I looked down on people when they said it took them a whole month to find a job. Now I am looking forward to the fast-approaching month deadline and I still don't have anything permanent. Maybe I should go work at McD's!
       There are a few opportunities I am looking at. I have gone through the local substitute teaching orientation and, once fingerprinted, I will be ready to influence and shape young minds. :)  I have a profile on a nannying/babysitting/tutoring website and am actively 'freelancing' in these areas. I'm actually babysitting on Valentines and Hank and I are going to celebrate early since there is a chance he will fly that day. But all these little leads aren't steady income and I am just plain anxious.
      My heart is to help people, to really be a force to motivate and help promote change in people's lives. I realize how cliche that sounds. In college I was suspicious about getting paid to travel, teach English and talk about Jesus. But I still have to believe it is somewhat possible.

So, I am trying to believe. Trying to trust that there is SOMETHING that I can do. Maybe I can teach English. I love doing that last year. Maybe I can save up some money and get certified to be a Life Coach (a new dream). Maybe I can just make a difference where I am. It doesn't have to be anything monumental but just getting to know people and love them.

ahhh.. We'll see.