I am devastated.
Okay, that might be a touch melodramatic, but I am seriously bummed. I applied for a job I really wanted, and I found out after work yesterday that I didn’t make it past the first round interview.
Now I’m sitting here wondering what to do with myself. Do I lick my wounds, work three times harder to make my writing dream come true, or put everything I have into my current teaching career and forget about writing, speaking, working for our church?
I think I made a step in the right direction by visiting The Cheesecake Factory last night and savoring some chocolate mouse and lemon raspberry cheesecakes. I’m not sure how it helped, but I know it did.
I have found that I can’t teach English full time, write part-time, work for the church part-time, be mom to my three very active kids, and be a foster mom. I know that realization might have seemed obvious to everyone reading this, but its harder to come to terms with when you are living it.
If I quit teaching, we will be poor and without health insurance. If I stop writing, I give up on my biggest dream. If I quit working with the church, I let my calling go. If Jon and I don’t make a home for kids without families, we neglect our convictions. If I give less time to my kids, I lose what is most important.
I wanted to be an instructional coach because working with teachers to improve instruction would have been an awesome job, and I would have gained endless hours of freedom through no longer having to grade a never ceasing stream of essays.
I love my students, and I love teaching English. I actually love everything I am doing. I just don’t have time to do it all.
Recently, I’ve been a rock star parent and a grading goddess because I have cut what I do at the church by 75% and I have barely written. We have also been between foster placements this month.
It has hurt my heart to watch the gaps at church and the dwindling blog views.
Despite my soul consoling visit to The Cheesecake Factory last night, the lesson might be that I can’t have my cake and eat it too.
Or maybe, just maybe, the lesson I am learning is to trust God that he knows my dreams and the calling he has put on my life. I can be sullen and disappointed for a minute, but then I need to remember where God has brought me. I need to quit acting like the Israelites in the desert.
They only focused on their present discomforts instead of remembering the miraculous rescue, the daily provision, and the promised future.
Man that stings to write. I feel so convicted.
God, help me to keep my focus on your great works, your presence in the mundane, and the promises for my future. I am sorry that I quickly forget all your provision when I spend a little time in a desert season. Forgive me for my fickle heart and help me to always see the daily blessing. Teach me to trust you with all of my life. Amen