•3:50 PM
LANA:
It's probably been pretty obvious that I have not been a happy girl for the past few weeks. I'm sort of ashamed of how much I've complained and 'uuuuggggh'ed and 'urrrrrrrgh'ed on my Facebook updates. I know my attitude has been less than exemplary. But it's really been driving me crazy. This waiting.
I kept taking it back to God (only after indulging in week-long pity parties, of course - when will I learn?). And every single time, He's assured me in no uncertain terms that He has us covered. It's ok to be wanting to leave. The end of our reign of these townhomes is near.
But how near? God is eternal. He's not necessarily on my timeline.
I thought maybe we were too focused on Portland as our destination city. Maybe that's not where He was leading us after all. All I was hearing from out there is that there are next to no jobs, and the competition is fierce (think 400-500 applications per position), and generally, employers strongly prefer to hire locals. Plus two cooking schools within the city limits pumping out fresh culinary students every few weeks. Willing to work for crumbs. How is DH supposed to compete with that, and beyond it, support a family? Of course nothing is impossible with God, and I don't doubt for a minute that He can give DH any job out there, but sometimes these circumstances can be His way of saying 'no', too. I just have to trust Him.
So I opened my heart up the possibility that He was saying 'no' to Portland. Even though we've spent hours upon hours getting to know the neighborhoods, housing prices, parks and restaurants. My mind hit the wall and exploded, going in no particular direction. I started at Square One, searching towns and employment climates on the other side of the Cascades, in Duluth, in Minneapolis, in Chico, CA, and - what in the world - Austin, TX.
Two hours later I was scrolling through Craigslist help wanted ads out of Dallas, my stomach in my throat about how we were ever going to figure out where our home is supposed to be, when the call came. A fellow with a thick accent asking for DH. I am so glad right now that I don't hang up on telemarketers!
DH has an interview in Portland tomorrow.
God brought us back.
I think He wanted my willingness to change our plans to His will, to be flexible to His direction. To make sure we know that none of this is happening by chance and that He has us very firmly by the hand. We're on the right path. We didn't think twice about the cost of the plane ticket to get DH out there. It's no fluke.
It's for a real job. With a real chef, a French-born chef, who has worked in France.
2:15 PM tomorrow... could this be it?
It's probably been pretty obvious that I have not been a happy girl for the past few weeks. I'm sort of ashamed of how much I've complained and 'uuuuggggh'ed and 'urrrrrrrgh'ed on my Facebook updates. I know my attitude has been less than exemplary. But it's really been driving me crazy. This waiting.
I kept taking it back to God (only after indulging in week-long pity parties, of course - when will I learn?). And every single time, He's assured me in no uncertain terms that He has us covered. It's ok to be wanting to leave. The end of our reign of these townhomes is near.
But how near? God is eternal. He's not necessarily on my timeline.
I thought maybe we were too focused on Portland as our destination city. Maybe that's not where He was leading us after all. All I was hearing from out there is that there are next to no jobs, and the competition is fierce (think 400-500 applications per position), and generally, employers strongly prefer to hire locals. Plus two cooking schools within the city limits pumping out fresh culinary students every few weeks. Willing to work for crumbs. How is DH supposed to compete with that, and beyond it, support a family? Of course nothing is impossible with God, and I don't doubt for a minute that He can give DH any job out there, but sometimes these circumstances can be His way of saying 'no', too. I just have to trust Him.
So I opened my heart up the possibility that He was saying 'no' to Portland. Even though we've spent hours upon hours getting to know the neighborhoods, housing prices, parks and restaurants. My mind hit the wall and exploded, going in no particular direction. I started at Square One, searching towns and employment climates on the other side of the Cascades, in Duluth, in Minneapolis, in Chico, CA, and - what in the world - Austin, TX.
Two hours later I was scrolling through Craigslist help wanted ads out of Dallas, my stomach in my throat about how we were ever going to figure out where our home is supposed to be, when the call came. A fellow with a thick accent asking for DH. I am so glad right now that I don't hang up on telemarketers!
DH has an interview in Portland tomorrow.
God brought us back.
I think He wanted my willingness to change our plans to His will, to be flexible to His direction. To make sure we know that none of this is happening by chance and that He has us very firmly by the hand. We're on the right path. We didn't think twice about the cost of the plane ticket to get DH out there. It's no fluke.
It's for a real job. With a real chef, a French-born chef, who has worked in France.
2:15 PM tomorrow... could this be it?
