These things take time...

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It’s been almost a year since I graduated with my MA in Professional Counseling. I got a job about three months out of school; however, after several months of working there, I was certain it was not where God wanted me. That being said, I am another couple months into being unemployed. Ok, maybe I should clarify. Because I am also a part-time piano/voice teacher, I am not completely unemployed; however, I am only making about half of the income I need to pay all of my bills. It’s incredibly scary and horribly frustrating.

Being in such a “tight” place has helped me learn a lot. I have learned more about community… about allowing others to help me. If you know anything about me, I like to “do it myself”, but it has been extremely humbling to learn that, in all honesty, I can’t. As much as I enjoy being self-sufficient and independent, sometimes a little extra help is necessary… for well-being and for humility. I spent some time with friends last Thursday night, and a friend that I just met reminded me that the purpose of the Body is to lift one another up and to encourage, to help in times of need. It was a reminder of my role as the giver but also the recipient.

Growing up, I very rarely thought about money. My family wasn’t rich, but we weren’t poor… at least to my knowledge. We had food on the table, clothes on our bodies, a roof over our heads, and we even got to take family vacations every now and then. We may not have gone out to eat for every meal or had designer clothes or taken trips to exotic sites, but I have some very precious memories revolving around spending just a little money…not to negate the fact that my parents worked hard, and my dad is probably the most financially savvy person I know.

One memory I have is of a camping trip my family took. We packed up the tent and headed to a campsite. Oh the fun we had… especially as it started to pour. No one slept that night, and we were all fairly miserable, but we were together, and I will never forget it. In the second grade, many of my friends’ families had money trees growing in their backyards, and I remember coming home in tears because someone had made a comment about my jeans not having a specific label. I don’t even know what the label was, but I do remember my mom’s efforts to find a label that she could sew onto my jeans. The funny thing is that once the label was attached, no one noticed they were the same old non-brand jeans. Other memories include late nights around a campfire while my dad read aloud my siblings and me. They are precious to me and mean far more than any material gift or trinket.

All that to say that I am convinced that authenticity and valuable moments do not require having or spending a lot of money. However, I have to admit that I am human; a little stability would be nice. I will be completely honest, I’m nervous. I don’t know how things will work next month. I can't see it, and I wonder why God gave me eyes when faith is how I'm supposed to see. God has blessed me this month and provided through His Body. He usually does that when I reach the end of my rope and say, “I can’t do it”. I can just see Jesus shaking His head with a half smile, saying, “It’s about time you let me take over”. You’d think that with all the times I’ve been to that place, I wouldn’t have any difficulty trusting! That I would never be tempted to worry again!

I know the Biblical command not to worry, but what is the practical aspect? How do I apply this to daily life? How do I “just not worry”? What does it mean to “cast my cares upon Him”? And how do I know if I really am? Will I see the results? Feel the results? Where is the balance of resting/trusting and yet not negating my responsibility to be a good steward with what I have and continuing to look for potential jobs. I really want to believe that God will provide. He is Jehovah Jirah, but alas, knowing and feeling are very different, and when knowledge and emotion are not in sync, confusion is usually the next visitor. becomes even more difficult when the only doors that seem to be moving are those that are very clearly closing. However, as a friend suggested, knowing where not to go is just as important as knowing where to go.

Sometimes the most precious of all moments takes place in the most difficult of times. As I listened to the song included in this post, I feel like singing and dancing and laughing... but I also feel like crying. Yes, it is possible to do all of the latter at the very same time. I'm in that place where peace, delight, confusion, expectancy, and frustration all meet... on the road that leads to complete reliance. It's the balance between finding joy in the experience, yet experiencing without stoicism/bitterness/guilt. Despite the fact that I have no idea what is coming next, this is where Iam... and it is the best possible place to be.

So, I trudge onward, knowing that "these things take time".