We All Need Our People

A few months ago I had an inner turmoil where I felt compelled to apply for a job with the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association (BGEA). I didn’t want to move to Charlotte, but the ad to apply for the job kept haunting me to the point that I decided to check it out. Even though I didn’t want to even think about a different full-time job, the application had a checkbox for contract work, so I decided to fill out the application and see what happened.

When I have possible decisions to make, I often pray about them first. I consult God and normally get my answer, or at least some peace about the situation. I like this because I don’t feel like I have to talk to other people about it. By not talking to people about it, I get to avoid follow up questions and the possibility of feeling like I haven’t lived up to a person’s expectations if the situation doesn’t go the way that person thinks it should go. I’m perfectly happy to keep my deepest struggles and desires to myself.

Sometimes that doesn’t work, though. God gives us people for a reason. There’s tons of verses and passages in the Bible about living in community, bearing each other’s burdens, functioning as one body, iron sharpening iron, and all of that togetherness stuff. God uses people to do His work and sometimes God uses people to speak. The problem is, we’re still people, meaning we’re all flawed and we’re incapable of approaching situations without some sort of bias. Sometimes we can call that bias “experience” and it can be a good thing. This is why instead of being given a person, we’re given people to give us the push and pull, advice and/or comfort that we need for situations we encounter. I’ve been fortunate enough to have lots of people in my life and thought I might share a few with you and how they shaped me through this process. They’re not my only people, but were involved this time on different levels and they’re quite different from each other.

My Mom and Dad

I didn’t plan to tell anyone about applying for the job, but I had to tell some employers, so that included my dad. I also needed to get his advice on the best way to fill out the forms. He, per usual, threw his complete support behind me and told me that even if I needed to move, he was there to support me, help me sell the house, get a new house, etc. I told him that I didn’t really want to move and was looking more to see if they had any projects that they were contracting out. He still wanted me to know that he was behind whatever I wanted to do. I think he even called back a second time to make sure I knew that I could move if I wanted.

Not long after sending in the application, I heard from the HR department and we sent a few e-mails back and forth about my disinterest in a full-time job and relocating and the fact that they didn’t have contract jobs open. I figured that was that and gladly let the door close. I felt like I should apply for some reason, but once I got the word that nothing was available, I was satisfied.

A few days later, my mom called. She told me about something one of the cats did or something about what some of the kids in her children’s ministry did (I get the cats and the kids confused sometimes). Then she came right out and asked about the job application. I told her that I already got turned down since I didn’t want to apply for a full-time gig and move and that they didn’t have contract work at this time. Instead of saying, “Oh well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” she said, “Well, why didn’t you tell them you would apply for the full-time job?”
“Uh, because I didn’t want to move and take a full-time job.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to move, don’t want to sell the house and I have clients and work now that I don’t want to give up.”
“Well, it could have been a good opportunity for you. You could have done your other work on top of the full-time job and we could have sold your house.”
“In this market?”
“Your house would sell.” She said this with a confidence and assurance like she had a crystal ball and saw it happen in the future.

I wanted to argue with her about how quickly the house would sell, but she was sure and I’ve learned not to argue with her much anyway. I never win. Then the conversation moved into how I’m too rooted and don’t like change and I really need to learn to embrace change better and not be so closed minded etc., etc., I suck at life. Okay, my mother didn’t say that I sucked at life, and I don’t think she meant it between the lines either, but I’m a sensitive soul, and my attachment issues are a sensitive topic for me anyway, so no matter what she meant, I’m pretty sure I cried a little as soon as I hung up the phone.

Side note: I put down roots quickly and deeply. I have my favorite things and I attach emotions with pretty much everything. When I was 10-years-old, my family decided to put a swimming pool in the back yard. I thought this was cool until I realized my favorite climbing tree would have to be cut down in order to make the pool happen. The day that my dad went out to cut it down, I couldn’t take it and I ran off to my room and sobbed profusely. My family laughed at me. I remember my grandfather coming to my room to try to console me, but I think he ended up laughing at me as well. I can’t help it, everything means something to me and I’m good at settling in. You’re probably laughing at me now. I don’t like you anymore. I’m kidding. Sort of.

My friend Cristin

After talking with my mom, I wondered if maybe I should try to e-mail HR back and asked to be considered for the full-time position.  Then I let some days pass and got comfortable with my decision to let it go again. Then my friend Cristin rolled through town. She lives about 2 hours away in another town, but was in Columbia for some other reason and had an hour to spare, so she came by to visit.

Before I go further (yep, another backstory, I’m sorry), let me give you a little more background on this friendship. Even though Cristin is probably sick and tired of me telling this, I still think it’s funny. When she and I were freshmen in college (we’re not even a whole month apart in age) and getting started in Baptist Collegiate Ministry (BCM), I was scared of her. It’s funny because I’m rarely scared of anyone. People don’t intimidate me. Normally I intimidate them. And Cristin is short. I totally out mass her. If we were to get into a physical fight, given our sizes, I should be able to win. She doesn’t fight fair though, so you should probably put your money on her. Anyway, somewhere along the lines, I became not so scared of her and we became friends. We weren’t the closest of friends, but we got along nicely, worked well together and, of course, were part of the family that is BCM. Then Cristin graduated and I stuck around to milk one extra semester out of college. Cristin went through training and then headed off to East Asia for two years to do some … “special work” (I’m still uncertain how much I’m allowed to say publicly about that, so I’ll err on the safe/sketchy sounding side). Anyhoo, I started receiving monthly-ish e-mail newsletters from Cristin about her adventures. Those e-mail newsletters reminded me to e-mail her to see how she was doing. We even Skyped once. We probably communicated more in those two years than we did the previous four years of knowing each other. Then Cristin came back to the USA and I was like, “yay!” and Cristin was like, “yay?” because like most people who get sent off to do “special work,” she had to adjust back. Really though, she was a lot less weird than I expected. So then somewhere along those lines it was like God told us we needed to be better friends, so we did that. This could be a whole other story in itself.

And, now we’re back to the point where Cristin’s sitting in my living room asking me what’s up with my life. Even though I hadn’t told any of my friends about the BGEA, I found myself blabbing about it to Cristin. I was hoping for sympathy. Instead, this is what I got.

“You should e-mail them back.”
“But I know I don’t want a full-time job.”
“So.”
“So, it will be a waste of everyone’s time.”
“No it won’t …”

And then she went on to explain how and why it wouldn’t be a waste of time and how I shouldn’t be so closed off and how I need to embrace change and yeah this is all sounding very familiar.

So, I replied with, “Enough talk about me; what’s going on with you?”

Cristin just laughed at me and reiterated that I needed to e-mail them back.

Two days later, even though I felt stupid, I e-mailed them back and then prayed hard that I would be turned down. When I told Cristin about e-mailing them, she laughed and said, “I win.”

Roommate Lauren

Then there’s my friend Lauren. Since about 50% of my friends are named Lauren, this is the one I affectionately refer to as “Roommate Lauren” because we were roommates for two years in college. Every Lauren has her own name. Anyway, this Lauren is my “go get ’em!” friend. If she thinks it might advance my career, increase my networking opportunities and/or allow for greater financial freedoms, she encourages me to go for it. Whenever she sees possible opportunities, she sends them my way. Lauren is always looking out for me. We don’t see each other like we used to when we lived together, but we make sure to carve out time since our paths wouldn’t cross much these days if we didn’t make them. We got together for coffee one evening not long after I e-mailed the BGEA back. It was refreshing to just talk and have Roommate Lauren time, just sharing life and laughing along the way. It helps put a restless mind at ease.

My brother, Michael

Michael and I didn’t get along incredibly well as kids. He sort of ruined my chances at being an only child, so I held it against him a lot and beat him up all the time. As we’ve grown older, I’ve learned to appreciate having a sibling, especially one as good as him. Yes, sometimes he still talks too much and yes, when we get around our parents, we still bicker and fight because that’s our role in the family, but he’s a good fella who’s company I’ve come to enjoy. He knows me well and has become one of my good friends.

Since he’s the seminary student, one might expect him to respond like my mom and Cristin when it came to possibly working for the BGEA, but he offered a different perspective.

“You want to make sure it’s something that you really feel called to do before you take off and move.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say! If it’s going to happen, it will happen.”
“Yeah, I mean you have to take steps to get it going, but then God will move it along. And I know you don’t really want to move.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then make sure it’s right before you do anything like that.”

Jane

“Mamma” Jane was my BCM minister, is a mentor and one of my best friends. She can often read me like a book and tells me what she thinks, but always in a gentle manner. One evening, while talking on the phone, I brought up the BGEA thing and my debating with my mom and Cristin. She didn’t say much about it: neither, “you should go for it” or “don’t do it.” Weeks later while we were having lunch together, the subject came up again. I expressed my extreme lack of desire to go.

She said, “I don’t know why, but I found myself not telling you that you should do it. I had to ask myself why. I don’t think you would be happy there.”

It made me feel better that my retired professional Christian friend and my soon to be professional Christian brother held more hesitancy about the possible change. As it turned out, God answered my prayer in the affirmative and I received an official rejection for the job. I’ve never been happier to be rejected.

I don’t know for certain why I felt such a struggle with this. I don’t know why I felt compelled to apply for a job I didn’t really want, and I don’t know why it kept popping up on my Facebook page (though I’m sure that has something to do with Internet marketing and my listed interests on Facebook).

I do recall reading about Abraham and his son Isaac in Genesis. After lots of waiting and praying, Abraham was finally given the son that God had promised, who he loved and cherished deeply. Then God told Abraham that He wanted Abraham to sacrifice Isaac to Him. That request, or command, rather, must have split Abraham’s heart in two. I can only imagine the conversations Abraham played back and forth with himself in his head. Maybe he even thought, “Surely God doesn’t want me to sacrifice my son. Perhaps I heard Him wrong.” No matter how uncomfortable it made him, Abraham still went through with the command only to see God come through for him by offering an alternative sacrifice in the end.

There’s a long list of lessons that Abraham probably learned from the experience. One of those might have been that we often lose sight of the Giver and come to love the gift more. Even the innocent things in life can become idols. Isn’t that what the root of sin is, idolatry? We get too rooted in ourselves, our families, our comfort and our things and forget to grow in Christ first and foremost. I’m happy that I didn’t have to sacrifice my life here for something else right now. The experience did make me more aware of the things I hold in too high esteem and has helped me release my roots just a little. There’s always a lesson to be learned. I’m just glad that God has given me plenty of people who make the learning less burdensome.