"Patience, Grasshopper," said Maya, "Good things come to those who wait." . . . " I always thought that was good things come to those who do the wave," said Simon, "No wonder I've been so confused all my life." ~ Cassandra Clare from City of Glass
Yesterday I came to the end of a long journey and stepped into the light of a place where another would begin. There was a defining moment offered up by the cosmos by which I should have heard the echo of applauding stars . . . I should have raised my hands to the glory of a path illuminated before me . . . I should have allowed myself the small luxury of that euphoric and magical carpet ride that stops at my door on the rare and beautiful occasion. And metaphorically speaking, all those things were going on. There was a party in my head . . . but the flashing lights were blinding, flying confetti was pelting me in the face, and I was a little dizzy. Actually, I was exhausted. It must have shown in my face, because my traveling companion . . . my friend . . . asked what was wrong. "Let me see," she said. She was referring to the contract I held in my hand delineating the work involved in my new job. "There's nothing wrong," I told her, "It's just that, well . . . I've never lacked faith. It's just that I've never had any patience."
Don't get me wrong -- my character flaws are not the focus of this blog . . . If I had to choose between faith and patience, faith wins hands down. Impatience keeps me awake at night. Impatience keeps me in an almost constant state of anxiety. Impatience makes me edgy and a little arrogant sometimes. But if someone can tell me how to wait patiently when I KNOW phenomenally wonderful and amazing things are about to happen any day, I'd like to hear. Jumping up and down like a nervous, excited chihuahua trying to see what's coming just over the horizon HAS been exhausting, but my faith has never, not once, wavered.
Today I'm celebrating the grace of God and the wonder of faith in my quiet way, and recalling the bright lights along the road of this journey that began eight months ago . . .
Eight months ago, after thirteen years, I quit my job as a reading specialist in a chaotic inner city school in order to pursue a writing career. I started a blog. I found some freelance work. I continued writing the book I began many years ago. I found renewed passion in doing something I love. I don't regret it.
Three months later, my husband lost his job of nineteen years as the building maintenance and groundskeeper for our church. He had outgrown it. It had stopped being good for him, for us, many years before. We see it clearly. The next day he went to work in his brother's shop as a mechanic. He loves the work.
We began a half-hearted search for a new home . . . the house we currently live in came with his job. We raised our children here. He had always been here for them. It's just us now . . . and we've always wanted a place of our own. But first I needed a "real" job . . .
I still want to write. I need to write.
I remembered an opportunity that my friend (the aforementioned traveling companion, and my former teaching partner) had told me about months ago . . . way before I quit my job, even . . . You'd be perfect, she said . . . it's great hours, great pay, she said . . . No, I had said then. I want to write.
And I needed to write . . . but I needed a real job.
There were applications involved. Educational conferences. Prerequisites. More applications. Deadlines. Missed deadlines. Opened doors. A phenomenal amount of work involved. On-line modules that amounted to whole college classes full of prep work . . . all contingent on an actual interview.
I got the interview. I hate interviews. I sucked at the interview.
I got the job.
I still get to write.
Househunting was a learning experience. We learned that a few months of "un" verifiable income was going to be a liability in actually buying a house . . . even after thirty years of collective, uninterrupted work history and stellar credit ratings. Go figure. After months of searching, we found a lovely rental that came with an astronomically high price tag and a passive-aggressive, communicationally challenged realtor.
We waited for him to get back with us. . . And waited . . . And waited some more. He told us we "had an inordinately high list of needs" and he "hoped a more desirable buyer didn't come along while he was trying to work out the details." . . . somewhere in the process it went from a 12 month rental to a 24 month rental . . . Hmmm . . .
Meanwhile, a cute rental that would fit all of our needs opened up. It belongs to some very dear friends who are willing to rent it to us month by month for a VERY reasonable price while we work up some verifiable income and look for the perfect home. . . Actually, the rental is so perfect . . . it just might BE the perfect home for us . . .
Our profound joy and love for them precluded our need to gloat to the realtor. I sent a very professional, very polite response to his last abrupt and cryptic e-mail telling him thanks, but no thanks. I might have been smiling a little.
I'm still smiling. Sometimes life is just good, and a little courage and a leap of faith are all you need to get a happy ending. Eight months ago I claimed these words . . . and gave them to my husband . . . and waited . . . Thank you to all who have prayed for us and loved us through this. We believe.
Don't get me wrong -- my character flaws are not the focus of this blog . . . If I had to choose between faith and patience, faith wins hands down. Impatience keeps me awake at night. Impatience keeps me in an almost constant state of anxiety. Impatience makes me edgy and a little arrogant sometimes. But if someone can tell me how to wait patiently when I KNOW phenomenally wonderful and amazing things are about to happen any day, I'd like to hear. Jumping up and down like a nervous, excited chihuahua trying to see what's coming just over the horizon HAS been exhausting, but my faith has never, not once, wavered.
Today I'm celebrating the grace of God and the wonder of faith in my quiet way, and recalling the bright lights along the road of this journey that began eight months ago . . .
Eight months ago, after thirteen years, I quit my job as a reading specialist in a chaotic inner city school in order to pursue a writing career. I started a blog. I found some freelance work. I continued writing the book I began many years ago. I found renewed passion in doing something I love. I don't regret it.
Three months later, my husband lost his job of nineteen years as the building maintenance and groundskeeper for our church. He had outgrown it. It had stopped being good for him, for us, many years before. We see it clearly. The next day he went to work in his brother's shop as a mechanic. He loves the work.
We began a half-hearted search for a new home . . . the house we currently live in came with his job. We raised our children here. He had always been here for them. It's just us now . . . and we've always wanted a place of our own. But first I needed a "real" job . . .
I still want to write. I need to write.
I remembered an opportunity that my friend (the aforementioned traveling companion, and my former teaching partner) had told me about months ago . . . way before I quit my job, even . . . You'd be perfect, she said . . . it's great hours, great pay, she said . . . No, I had said then. I want to write.
And I needed to write . . . but I needed a real job.
There were applications involved. Educational conferences. Prerequisites. More applications. Deadlines. Missed deadlines. Opened doors. A phenomenal amount of work involved. On-line modules that amounted to whole college classes full of prep work . . . all contingent on an actual interview.
I got the interview. I hate interviews. I sucked at the interview.
I got the job.
I still get to write.
Househunting was a learning experience. We learned that a few months of "un" verifiable income was going to be a liability in actually buying a house . . . even after thirty years of collective, uninterrupted work history and stellar credit ratings. Go figure. After months of searching, we found a lovely rental that came with an astronomically high price tag and a passive-aggressive, communicationally challenged realtor.
We waited for him to get back with us. . . And waited . . . And waited some more. He told us we "had an inordinately high list of needs" and he "hoped a more desirable buyer didn't come along while he was trying to work out the details." . . . somewhere in the process it went from a 12 month rental to a 24 month rental . . . Hmmm . . .
Meanwhile, a cute rental that would fit all of our needs opened up. It belongs to some very dear friends who are willing to rent it to us month by month for a VERY reasonable price while we work up some verifiable income and look for the perfect home. . . Actually, the rental is so perfect . . . it just might BE the perfect home for us . . .
Our profound joy and love for them precluded our need to gloat to the realtor. I sent a very professional, very polite response to his last abrupt and cryptic e-mail telling him thanks, but no thanks. I might have been smiling a little.
I'm still smiling. Sometimes life is just good, and a little courage and a leap of faith are all you need to get a happy ending. Eight months ago I claimed these words . . . and gave them to my husband . . . and waited . . . Thank you to all who have prayed for us and loved us through this. We believe.
"The Glorious Unfolding"
Lay your head down tonight
Take a rest from the fight
Don’t try to figure it out
Just listen to what I’m whispering to your heart
‘Cause I know this is not
Anything like you thought
The story of your life was gonna be
And it feels like the end has started closing in on you
But it’s just not true
There’s so much of the story that’s still yet to unfold
And this is going to be a glorious unfolding
Just you wait and see and you will be amazed
You’ve just got to believe the story is so far from over
So hold on to every promise God has made to us
And watch this glorious unfolding
God’s plan from the start
For this world and your heart
Has been to show His glory and His grace
Forever revealing the depth and the beauty of
His unfailing Love
And the story has only begun
And this is going to be a glorious unfolding
Just you wait and see and you will be amazed
We’ve just got to believe the story is so far from over
So hold on to every promise God has made to us
And watch this glorious unfolding
We were made to run through fields of forever
Singing songs to our Savior and King
So let us remember this life we’re living
Is just the beginning of the beginning
Of this glorious unfolding
We will watch and see and we will be amazed
If we just keep on believing the story is so far from over
And hold on to every promise God has made to us
We’ll see the glorious unfolding
