When Hubs and I moved to Oregon, we came with the intention of working with a ministry where we knew and loved the director and wanted to partner with the staff to grow a retreat center ministry. The director moved three months after we arrived; although we were aware it was possible, we were hoping it wouldn't come to pass. That should have been the first sign to buckle our seat belts for a bumpy ride.
Hub's newly hired assistant decided she didn't want to work nights and weekends, which is kind of tricky in the retreat business since that's when most retreats happen. The camp did not rehire the position. Then we got a new director who is a wonderful Christian man and great friend. It became apparent that his vision for camp, coupled with financial realities that were hitting every camp everywhere below the belt, were not what we felt called to do or were able to perform.
Hub was doing his job, his assistant's job, and frequently what had been handled by other former staff as well. It is humanly possible to work 17 days in a row for 12-14 hours a day, but I wouldn't recommend it. He burned out pretty quick, got a little help, and stayed as long as he could. But it was only a stopgap. This past summer, the writing was on the wall in many ways- spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Hub made a hard call.
Being in ministry, you don't want to burn bridges or leave anyone in a bad way, at least not if you can help it. He told the director about his thoughts, and basically offered to resign. He was saddened to receive no resistance, but that confirmed his heart's knowledge. Paul and Barnabas came to our hearts as we tried to explain to everyone. We were given an end date of Halloween, ha-ha-- and "living it" began.
And here we sit, five days away, with no job yet. There are a couple of prospects, and a few interviews, but no actual job. We can stay in our house for a bit longer. (Leaving with grace and integrity is a blessing, people want to help you transition!) We have a little money we can access if we need to, and my parents have a BIG house if it all goes horribly awry.
And I have had to let go of a million small dreams and goals. I have had to grieve over several things and let God have his way with them. I don't want to move my tent, I want to plant tulips around it! But the only hope I have for sanity is this: I have to think like Sarah in her tent, not Martha in her house in Bethany. I have had to trust God with things I would rather not bother Him with, thanks, anyway, but find He is cleaning out of m y life like I mercilessly clean my kids' closets.
But I have found it sharpens my love for my family, it sharpens my trust in God to a fine point. Either I trust Him, or I don't. He KNOWS every little thing about this whole life moment that I see as a mess, but He sees as an opportunity to refine me and mine. I have been blessed to see friends who actually took action, who call and check on me, who PRAY. ( I also have been kind of shocked by who didn't, but that's a whole 'nother set of wheels.)
And you know what? If it all falls apart, like so many other people who lean on God have discovered, He is still there. In the middle of it. He walks through with us. Life is messy. But God can make it not only clean and beautiful again, He lifts us up in the process to become more like Him. That's the kind of down and dirty I can do.
I think. Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment