Sometimes waiting makes things seem so far away
It’s amazing how much time we spend in life waiting. I’ve waited for jobs, for apartments, and for answers that never came. I’ve waited for phone calls, for a student to finally get it, and for things to finally settle down.
Right now I’m waiting for the ultrasound that will tell me my baby’s gender and for the months to pass until I’ll get to meet him or her. I’m waiting for the first phone call asking me to sub this year, and in the long run, I’m waiting to find out what God has in store for my career.
You’d think we’d get used to it, all this waiting. You’d think that we’d finally understand that anxiety doesn’t make the waiting easier, that patience is (usually) rewarded, and no matter how much or how little we wonder about and anticipate things, what will happen will happen.
I have eleven different education-related jobs listed on my resume. Eleven jobs in six years. That’s not counting the filler jobs like nannying or that time I worked for the children’s theater, either. Teaching, subbing, tutoring, test prep, program development… I’ve pretty much done it all by now. And I’ve walked away from it all, too. My nomadic life following my husband makes for an interesting work history.
I thought I’d found somewhere I’d finally get to stay. I thought I was done updating my resume for a while.
I was wrong. I have to walk away again.
I really thought I had it. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’d even started writing the blog post celebrating the new job. Fortunately, I wasn’t a fool enough to post it before I actually had confirmation from the principal. Then the days dragged into weeks, which dragged into over a month, and still I didn’t hear anything. That’s when the doubt crept in. Maybe this job wasn’t a given. Maybe they’re offering it to someone else, and they just don’t want to tell me “no” until after they’ve gotten the “yes” from him.
Let me go on record and say that I had reasons other than my own ego for thinking that job was mine (though looking back, ego had a hand, too). I landed the interview on a blind resume. The opening hadn’t been publicly advertised, so I wasn’t lumped with the job-hunting masses that flood any job posting they see. That narrowed the competition field considerably. Even better, I student taught at that school. I knew the environment, the mission, and the student demographic. Continue reading
It began four years ago. My husband, dog, and I piled into our car for a cross-country drive from Wisconsin to Seattle, while movers (supposedly) carted all our belongings for us. Thus began the journey that would span five states, four churches, over ten different schools, and two doctorate degrees.
It’s a little surreal now to look back on how it all began – the weeks spent sleeping on a borrowed air mattress watching Arrested Development episodes on a laptop in our empty apartment while we waited for our furniture to be delivered. The constant job-hunting and trips to the library to borrow their internet. The late nights my husband spent at the lab, sometimes studying and researching, sometimes jamming out with his buddies in the “lab band.” The church that became our home, the youth room with splatter-painted walls and candlelit discussions with the youth group on the floor of an empty church sanctuary. And then came the big life questions, the fears and the prayers, and his acceptance into the accelerated optometry program. Then came the frantic late nights as he finished his thesis and I searched for employment and a place to live on the opposite coast. Then came the panic and the deliberately measured breathing, the prayers cried – and the prayers answered. Then came Boston. Continue reading
It was 11:45 pm on a Friday night. My husband was already zonked out for the night, and I was just playing around on my computer. I finally pushed the keyboard away and headed to the bathroom with thoughts of getting ready for bed. I was literally halfway through the bathroom door when my phone rang.
This is where my husband and I go on Friday nights. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Now, you need to understand something. My husband and I have never been “party-on-a-Friday-night” kind of people. We’ll go out to dinner with friends or maybe catch a movie sometimes, but more often than not, Friday night sees us reading or doing work at Starbucks, or simply enjoying a quiet night at home. We like it that way. And we like going to bed at a decent hour.
It was not normal for someone to call me at 11:45 pm. Far from it. I knew the ringtone, though. It was the special ringtone that I reserve for two of my dearest friends. Continue reading
Anchorage, Alaska. That looks cold. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I wish I were able to tell you how we’ll buy those two coats.
That’s it. That’s all I need right now. Two coats.
Ok, that’s not true. There’s a much longer list of things I need, and it makes my heart race if I think about it too much. I wish I were more confident of employment in Alaska and Miami. I wish all our belongings were able to pack themselves so I wouldn’t have to pack them myself again and again. I wish my husband were able to get a full night’s sleep between all his work, studying, and stress. I wish we were sure of a place to live in Miami. I wish my sub coordinator were calling right now to tell me I have work lined up for the next month before we fly off to Alaska…
And I have to stop there before the panic sets in.
Two coats. Warm enough for an Alaskan winter. At a price that we can afford. Continue reading