Florida-phobia

August 2019--I got a call from my friend who was moving to Sarasota.  She hadn't moved yet, but she was making preparations and she had some questions.  Her job involved opening a new facility and she asked if I would take a look at the architectural drawings.  I was happy to do it.  I love these kinds of projects!  "By the way," she added "if you've reconsidered applying for the job, this is the time to send in your resume!"  

I talked to Mrs. O again.  Again, the timeline.  And now the questions: am I holding myself to some artificial obligation that only exists in my head?  Everyone around me at work knows I have wanted a job change for a long time.  They must think I'm crazy for not taking this job.  Why am I still here?  Am I afraid of something?

 

I don't really like Florida that much, anyway.

I was afraid of alligators.  I was afraid of sharks.  I was afraid of stingrays.  I was afraid of hurricanes.  I was afraid of poisonous spiders.  But most of all, I was afraid of poisonous snakes.  You know that little rhyme about "a friend of Jack" that tells you how to tell a poisonous snake from a harmless one?  Well, I never bothered to really figure it out because if I see a snake that MIGHT be poisonous, I'm not going to examine him closely enough to determine which kind he really is!  I'm going to run away!

But, here's the thing. . . I want to be where I am supposed to be.  But, how do you know?  Mrs. O and I talked about the timeline.  Is it possible the 5 years is over?  Was it supposed to be approximately five years?  When did the five years start anyway?  I had begun taking on the new role in August of 2014 even though the official position started in January 2015. . . could the 5 years be over in August?

I prayed again.  I thought back to the time when I had the strong sense that this was a five year job.  When I consider how I felt at that time, I try to remember as accurately as I can how I felt and what exactly I sensed was going to happen.  It seems impossible to remember the tiny details, but in these cases, it seems if I pray about it, I always seem to remember just a few of the most important details.  Writing these things down in a journal also helps!  I remember distinctly, the end of the five years feeling like it would come on December 31.  I don't really know how or why I remember that particular detail--I just prayed and asked and He answered.   

"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you." James 1:5 (NIV)

The five years were 2015-2019.  I knew in my heart these were the five years and I would not feel free to move on until the end of the calendar year.  At church, the leaders had just begun a Bible study together: Experiencing God.  It was turning out to be a great study and I was really enjoying it.  It's funny--the lessons in the study were all about asking God to show you what he is about to do and follow Him into it.  Each lesson seemed to help me along the way through these months as Mrs. O and I struggled to discern the best way forward.

Mrs. O had similar feelings to mine and she added that if God was about to do something amazing in the next couple of months, she didn't want to run away and miss it.

So, I declined Florida, again.

This is one in a series of stories about the events of this last year.  If you want to start at the beginning, read about The Five Years. . . or go to the next one Inventory.

Broken Chains

Toward the end of July 2019 I was looking forward to a professional meeting which was to take place in the middle of September.  I had submitted a project for presentation and was waiting for news of its acceptance.  I had a strong sense that this meeting may be significant to my job search in some way--a weird strong sense that on the surface didn't seem like it should amount to much, but it did.  I was so convinced of the significance of this particular event that I had made a paper chain to count the days until the meeting. . . or, rather, the impending relief I was convinced would be coincident.

"For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false.  Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."  Habakkuk 2:3

In church one Sunday we were singing a song about being free--free from all the things that hold us back.  On the power point displaying the words was a background picture, a meme-like picture, of a person standing with arms out and broken chains.  I thought to myself, "That looks like a paper chain."  And all at once this thought hit me.  

My paper chain is holding me back.  

Not really my paper chain, but the expectation it represented.  The expectation that life, or God, or someone owed something to me and it was due in the middle of September.  I can't convey in words how transforming it was to let go of the expectation.  I knew deep down at my core that I had taken something real and significant and I had deformed it.  I had attached an expectation to the strong sense of the significance of the middle of September--an expectation about what kind of significance it would be.  I was counting on meeting someone at the meeting with a job offer, some news of a job opportunity, or some other new beginning.  I HAD to get to that meeting to meet that someone. . . maybe.  

This feels like a good time to mention that a good deal of prayer and reflection is needed to discern the difference between the 'weird strong sense' that turned out to be something important and the expectation that turned out to be a burdensome limitation.  Two thoughts on this: the real thing, the strong sense--when it has turned out to be truly significant--has always been repeated multiple times in different ways.  This repetition has confirmed the significance to me and it brings an overwhelming sense of peace even in the face of many unknown details.  I have begun to pay particular attention when I find myself having a strong sense multiple times related to the same event or decision.  I find it important to pay attention to the practical aspects of what I'm sensing--what I believe I am supposed to do--as well as the more abstract things--how do I feel about this, and what fear do I have.  

The misplaced expectation comes with an anxiety, a tension, a fear that my hope will be dashed if it proves false.  Sometimes, like this particular time, it came with a sense that I had to get to that meeting to make this thing happen, that is to say, bring the relief I wanted so badly.

But here's the catch: I realized I had deformed the real thing by adding the expectation.  When I realize I have made a mistake like this, I have to go back to the point where I felt the strong sense that this timing would be significant, the substance of the 'strong sense' was only that something significant would happen and it seemed like it might be related to my job.  

Back to the song, and the power point with the man in the picture with the broken paper chain at his wrists. . . it felt like God was showing me He needed to own the paper chain--the expectations, and the timeline--and I wanted Him to own the paper chain.  I didn't want my expectations to own me anymore.

At the end of July--I don't remember the exact day--I got a response from the professional meeting that my project had been rejected.  I was devastated.  How will my relief come now?  There really was no foreseeable reason for me to attend the meeting.  I cancelled my plans.  I asked a friend to pray for me.  As we customarily do when we pray for each other, this friend told me later on that when he prayed he felt like God gave him "45 days" for me.  He counted out the 45 days and the 45th day was September 13.  He told me that he believed that day would be significant for me--that something would happen on September 13 which would impact me in a big way.  He also said that he didn't know that I would be aware of these events on September 13, but that later on someone would say "and 'this' happened on September 13" and then I would know that this was God moving something along for me.

So, I took down my paper chain.

This is number 2 in a series of stories about the events of the last year.  If you would like to start at the beginning, go back and read about The Five Years. . . or go to the next one: Florida-phobia.