“God never pulls you in to bless you
without sending you out.”
~ Tim Keller
Last Thursday, God pulled me in.
Not that I wasn't asking for it. I'd been askin' for a year, ever since we sold our house and moved into the rental half the size. Oh, I'd been asking, indeed begging. In retrospect, I think God needed to pull me in a little closer.
Here's what happened:
It was a Wednesday in mid-July when I threw myself across the bed, crying and begging God for a sign, some morsel of hope that we would one day be home in Roanoke, Va., again. I was such a mess that Curt took us all to Chili's for dinner, even though we'd already blown the eating out budget for the month.
The next day I reread Harry Potter 7 all day long. I didn't check emails. I didn't even text. I did make the bed, feed my family, and go to karate, but that about covers my usefulness for the day. I thumbed my iPhone that evening, checking my emails, waiting on karate class to start.
"Wendy, (sic)
Good morning. Dr. W forwarded your email to me about moving back to the area. I have a grade 5 position open and will be interviewing for the position next week. Are you still looking for a position? If so, what is a good contact number for you. Thanks."
Eyes. Wide. Open.
It was sent by a principal in the school district where I had taught when we moved away 10 years ago. I had, indeed, emailed the superintendent there back in late June after we'd come home from visiting, well, home. I had explained to her that Curt and I wanted to move back to Roanoke, and although there were no openings in the county, if anything turned up, please keep me in mind. She emailed me back the same day to let me know she'd forwarded my email to the director of personnel. And she wished me luck. I honestly didn't think it would go past that. Everybody wants to teach in the county. Naturally all the jobs had been gobbled up by Easter.
But this one wasn't. I read the principal's email aloud to Curt, and we both just grinned. We knew. We knew. This was God talking. He was pulling me in.
I emailed her back that night, ecstatic for the opportunity. She emailed me back again Friday and asked if I was under contract. They are not allowed to interview anybody under contract, she said.
Gulp.
Of course I'd signed a contract at the end of the school year. My life in Connecticut was rolling along as usual, with no sign that God was sending us anywhere when I signed it on June 19. No inkling that on July 18 I'd get that email about a 5th grade teacher job. I fretted for just a moment. Then I knew what to do. Breathe.
Pray.
I prayed. Then Curt and I prayed together. I cried a little bit. But I knew what I had to do. It was painful to quit a job that I had loved, one that I walked into without even knowing it back in January 2010. (I thought I was going to talk about being on the sub list!) I slept on it and then fired off an email to my boss the next morning. It should have been impossible to do. But God had spoken. I just did it.
And I remembered how I was being pulled in. I prayed and I asked my friends to pray for me.
By Tuesday, I was interviewing by phone and sending letters of recommendation and summer phone numbers for references. By Wednesday, the first principal had sent my name to another principal who also had an opening, and now I had not one, but two interviews scheduled for the following week when we'd be in Roanoke on our way to the beach. All day Wednesday I was walking on puffy clouds of happiness and hope. Breathing and praying were happening simultaneously.
Then by Thursday, one of the positions, the first one I had interviewed for - had quit my job for - was gone. The principal called me and was apologetic. There was an in-county transfer of a teacher who was already employed there. I got it. That stuff happens. It stunk, but it happens. I still had the other interview. And I was a bundle of nerves over it. My chances had been cut in half, I said. No, Curt assured me, my chances were still 100% greater than they had been a week ago. He was right, of course. And then it hit me: God knew this job would be gone before it even became a glimmer in my eye. And He knew it would lead to the other interview with principal number 2. Breathe. Pray. Breathe. Pray.
And He gave me a week to stew over the whole thing. Patience. I knew what He was up to. I was supposed to grow tendrils of patience out of this. I suppose I grew something because I did survive the week of waiting.
Last Thursday we arrived in Roanoke around noon. Curt's mom had Chick Fil A waiting, but I was so nervous I could barely eat. I had about an hour before I had to meet principal #2, so I went to lie down for a few minutes. Camden came in to hug me. Benjy popped in to tell me, "God is going to be right beside you, telling you it's going to be all right."
Then I got up, changed into my summer sweater, Lily Pulitzer skirt (a Savers thrift store steal!) and strappy kitten heels. I grabbed my portfolio and set off.
Breathe. Pray. Breathe. Pray. Breathe. Pray.
At 2:00 I interviewed. And at 3:00 I was done. By 4:00 I had the job.
I had the job!!! We were coming home! God pulled me in. And now He was sending me - and my family - out!
To be continued...
