A week ago Thursday, I accepted a job that has all the earmarks of being "The One." The Dreamy McDream Job.
(Please indulge me a little Seattle-based humor even though I'm really not moving to Seattle...)In all seriousness: it seems to literally be the job I have been describing throughout my past two years at Franciscan University, whenever anyone would ask me what I wanted to do with my degree.
"I don't know, I would love to find a small Catholic company with a message I really believed in that I could do media and marketing for." -Direct quote from me, throughout my past two years at Franciscan University, whenever anyone would ask me what I wanted to do with my degree.
Please believe that I am not gloating here, I'm in shock still, and more than a little humbled.
The desperation most Americans are feeling for want of work has never been more obvious to me. The enthusiasm and well wishes from my colleagues, friends and family have been at a level that five years ago might have been reserved for a new baby. To be handed an opportunity to work in my field, for a company I believe in, for a fair salary, seems almost too good to be true.
I've spent the past week working myself into a quiet froth of standard new-job anxiety ranging from dilemmas like:
"Mom, I have NO dress pants. Absolutely NONE."
to
"Do I admit that I own a copy of the Divine Office, but simply find it too frustrating to properly learn it? OR, do I spend this next week googling my way to expertness and pretend I've been practicing this Universal devotion for years?"(Okay. Maybe that one is only standard in extremely Catholic office settings.)
to
"Do I admit that I own a copy of the Divine Office, but simply find it too frustrating to properly learn it? OR, do I spend this next week googling my way to expertness and pretend I've been practicing this Universal devotion for years?"(Okay. Maybe that one is only standard in extremely Catholic office settings.)
The night after I accepted the position, I went to a Halloween party where kept people asking me: "What did you do? Literally. What did you DO? Where did you look, what prayers were you saying, What did you DO?!?"
That's the question that's been bothering me for the past week: What DID I do to deserve this?
I think the answer is that I don't.
(That doesn't mean what it sounds like.)
I had several "near misses" in the past six months of relentless job-hunting, where an opportunity would come around and LOOK for all intents and purposes like the spitting image of God's Will in my life. Retract that time frame. The past two years at least have been a real lesson in the fact that what I THINK should be His will for me, isn't always. That God's Will may not come in the timing I expect or the packaging I think it should.
To me, being offered this job is clearer proof than ever that He HAS a plan, and He will continue to let me in on it on a need-to-know basis.
Revelation part II is that in my co-mingled celebration and anxiety, I'm overlooking the fact that a job like this IS NOT ACTUALLY ABOUT ME. I wanted it specifically because it wasn't. I'm taking it because I believe spreading Capital "T" Truth to my fellow human beings is the most important pursuit I could choose to devote my time to. The fact that I will benefit with creative satisfaction and a roof over my head while pursuing it, is total proof of God's boundless generosity to His children.
I'm an instrument in this role, and all fear abates when I remember it.
Anybody reading this who may still be feverishly searching for work: all I can say is that your triumphs and disappointments are not the game itself, but all part of His bigger plan.
Make sure you return the favor and remind ME of that fact as well from time to time.
