Quiet mornings at home with the dogs and a cup of coffee are my favorite. I'll be getting more of these in the coming months and years, as my new job will allow me to work from home when I'm not on the road.
This morning, I felt compelled to write out a bit of a reflection on my journey over the past year and a half or so. It has been such an emotional struggle and period of growth, and it's so easy to forget what you learn once everything seems to be "okay." In my efforts to remember and remain humble about what brought me to this point, here is my first public blog in four years. Nothing about 2010-2014 has gone the way I imagined it would. It's not necessarily that I expected one thing or another, but I could have never anticipated what actually took place. Isn't life full of surprises? Here's hoping these words remain true moving forward.
I finished my Master's degree last year. Nothing about that went the way I thought it would, either. I would have never thought I'd be someone pursuing a degree online, much less because I planned to move across the country in the middle of my program. I love learning and always have, and my heart still aches for the missed experience of being in a classroom and seeing live lectures. I'm well aware of how nerdy that sounds. My concentration, in industrial/organizational psychology, was largely influenced by a comment a former coworker made about the possibility that studying organizations would lead to a position as a trainer. I imagined myself coordinating a large-scale training program, designing curriculum, and empowering people do to their best work. That sounded good to me, so I dove in. There was a very, very short decision-making process between deciding it was time to return to school and beginning my first class... as in, less than two months. For future reference, I advise investing a longer period of time for prayer and consultation when presented with other life-altering, high-commitment decisions.
Fast forward to the pit. This was the sinking feeling in my stomach last year when I realized, as we so often do when we think highly of ourselves, that my skills and experience weren't worth nearly as much as the energy I put into developing them. As the emotional individual I am, feelings of worthlessness and anger at my wasted time became very powerful. I applied for jobs, many of which I believe would have bored me to death, and experienced ongoing rejection. There was a cover letter that went viral earlier in 2013, and the recent graduate wrote, "The truth is, I have no unbelievably special skills or genius eccentricities, but I do have a near perfect GPA and will work hard for you." This became my mantra. My fingers itched to write something like that in each cover letter I submitted, but I'm not nearly bold enough to do something like that. I kept thinking to myself, I just need someone to give me a chance--to look at my resume and think, 'She seems like not an idiot; let's give her a try.' But that is not what happened.
Earlier this year, I began to pray more fervently about the job situation. Child welfare is emotionally exhausting, and I couldn't sustain the level of energy with which I was operating. I was running on fumes, sometimes on nothing. My prayers began with a plea for God to deliver me out of the field, begging God to give me something different, even if just for a little while. I wanted to make a deal that I would still help people but not like this. It was someone else's turn to do trauma assessments and deal with abused children. I needed a break. I needed something different. I needed something I didn't know I needed. Even as I continued to search job boards, become more burnt out, and somehow go to work every day, I knew my prayers were selfish. I am a very, very selfish person. Being aware of it is part of the battle, but the selfishness itself makes it incredibly difficult to change my attitude. Add to that the fact that I can logic my way out of anything, and it was a very stagnant place to be. People around me, seeing my burnout and having no idea what it is like to be a social worker, tried to be encouraging. I appreciated their comments, but I knew they were wrong. At some point, I just tried to stop talking about it. What do you say when people ask how you are doing? Most people say "fine" and think something else. My something else is usually something related to the vicarious trauma I've encountered that week, something I would never pass onto someone else (both for confidentiality reasons and the fact that I know most people can't handle that kind of reality).
[Noteworthy and loosely related to this topic is a spiritual gift inventory I took in college. My top gifts included voluntary poverty and suffering. I remember those more strongly than others because, frankly, they scared the bejeezus out of me. Who on earth wants to hear that they are gifted in living with limited financial resources and being in pain? That sounds terrible.]
The first few months of this year, I really wrestled with God. I was angry and disappointed in myself, but never with Him. I was--comforted isn't the right word, but bear with me--comforted by the idea that God is less concerned with my happiness than I am. I tried to focus on the promise of Heaven, and I reminded myself that my time on this earth is finite. Sound positive? Probably not, but it was. I started praying in my office every morning before I turned on my computer or checked my voicemails. I took time to thank Him for the good things in my life, because I am very fortunate. I asked Him to forgive me of my selfishness, which I know I will always be working against because I am human. As someone prone to bouts of depression, I wasn't looking for "happy," I was just looking for some peace. Some contentment. Joy can exist even amidst exhaustion and despair. Things don't have to be perfect to appreciate the beautiful reality of God's love and provision.
Over time, my prayers began to change. If God wasn't going to give me something different, then I needed to figure out a better way to cope with the present. I started to pray for strength, for peace, and for a compassionate heart to serve people I encountered the way Jesus would. I prayed regularly and sincerely. Some days, it was as simple as, "Please just be here with me." And somehow, I started to survive a bit better. I was less frustrated, my mouth was a lot cleaner when I was frustrated, and I slowly became better at leaving work at work. This is still an ongoing process for me, but I have truly seen a change this year that I can only attribute to grace. I found a place of acceptance, or so I thought, with my current circumstances. I watched a TED talk that was influential, in which I learned that the body can react well to stress if you internalize the message, "Things will be okay; I can handle this." So I started telling myself that, outloud, on a regular basis. I can handle this, and it will be okay.
In June, I received an email that a new full-time position had been created for a trainer within my current organization. I was so excited. Maybe this is what God has planned for me! This is why I'm still here! And it seemed like I had prayed with the right combination of sincerity, humility, and hope that suddenly, God was rewarding me for my patience. This concept is laughable to me now, because that just isn't how prayer works. Aren't we just so good at assuming causation and interpreting things in terms of an exchange?
After my interview at the end of July, I was told I would have an answer by the beginning of August. The interview went well, I was enthusiastic about the job, and I really, truly felt like I could make a positive difference in a position with more influence than what I had been doing. The call didn't come. I was crushed. Cue a brief grieving process, because I had too much work to do to have extended periods of sadness or loss over not getting the job. Confusion, anger, and disappointment returned, so maybe I hadn't learned quite what I needed to at that point in time.
The next month and a half was an extended period of waiting and uncertainty. As it turns out, there were some delays with the offer and setting up the position, which had nothing to do with me personally. I did a follow-up phone interview for the same position and made a point to truly express how passionate I am about training. It fills me and energizes me, and I believe I'm gifted in that area. More waiting and uncertainty. I had been confident enough in my chances that I had told people about the position and my interview. In some ways, I regretted this decision. Though it meant I had others praying with me, it also meant people constantly asking, "Have you heard yet?" -- a question to which I would respond with a deep breath, reminding myself they didn't mean to verbally sucker-punch me every time they asked. "I promise you'll know when I know," became my calm, collected, reasonable response. I continued to pray for the job, but with the added notion that I would be okay even if I didn't get it.
But I did get it. Yesterday, I received a phone call with a fantastic job offer. I will be coordinating a large-scale training program, designing curriculum, and empowering people do to their best work. So there you go.
And there's a funny thing that happens when things seem to fall into place and you see the world through rose-colored glasses. It's an odd questioning of the past, rehashing old circumstances and testing their validity in light of the bigger picture.
Was the last year and a half really all that bad? Yes and no. It's been a long year and a half, I'm a crybaby, and I didn't even understand what I could have been learning from it all until the last couple months. Time passes slower when we're angry and focused on the wrong things. I spent a lot more time frustrated than I did at a point of acceptance. While it's hard not to regret my immaturity, the outcome necessitated the journey.
Did it matter that I prayed so much? Absolutely, it did. Not because prayer got me a job, but because I believe with my whole heart that I needed to get to a place where I truly trusted that things were going to be okay, in my current position or elsewhere. This period of waiting hasn't been as much about my work as it has been about my heart. I'm a different person in a lot of ways. Finally, I learned to look outside myself for a long enough glimpse to see that there might be something bigger at play. This was especially tested over the last couple months, when I was so certain I was the right fit and yet so fearful that I wouldn't be chosen. I was challenged to trust that, even if it wasn't me, things would be okay, and that I could handle it.
Has my worldview really changed? You bet it has, because you know what? God would still be good even if I were destined to stay in my current position. He would still be God, and I would still have the promise of Heaven. I continue to pray for a compassionate heart in my work. I continue to pray for strength and peace. I continue to want to get better at being the person I was designed to be. Last year, I was only focused on the tangible reality of my day-to-day life, and I'm thrilled to say that is no longer the case. (2 Corinthians 4:18, amiright?)
I have known for some time, with some unsettling calm (it's not as much of an oxymoron as you think), that I am in the right field. Child welfare isn't very many people's calling, which is why there is such a drastic shortage of safe homes for children in need and workers to support those families. I know I'm uniquely created with a heart for this, and my purpose is to make this system function better. The design of the system affects the outcomes, which are children's lives in this case. I can't think of anything more important for me to do right now. I very much appreciate the support I've gotten as I've wrestled with these issues, but I remember asking over and over again, "But what if I'm not supposed to be doing something else?"
So, it is still my turn to be in this field. I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I will work for a cause I care about and do something I love. I just don't want to forget the struggle that got me here, because God is molding me and shaping me more all the time, and I am more sensitive to that than I ever have been before. Things will be okay. I can handle this. God is still good.
