Position Vacancy

Up until now, it’s been no big deal. Even the paperwork, the essays, the interviews, the countless emails to the Registrar’s Offices and Admissions teams, even the trips (well, trip) to California to visit a school, and, yes, even the acceptance letter and two letters following, granting complete and utter funding for my education. None of it hit home like receiving a “position vacancy” email for my own position while I’m busy doing the exact job in the description.

I’d like to think I handle things like this well, but to be completely honest,  at 10:26am as the email arrived in my box, I freaked out a bit and quite literally, Brandon accused me of “being a girl, right now”. I’m a little nervous about all the newness and change in my life recently. We’ve moved in to a new place, and haven’t really seen anybody. And between unpacking and vacation, we’ve been unable to “put our roots down”, so to speak in our new community. And since I started this blog by talking about community, I think I should point out right about here, that moving out of community has challenges of its own, as well.

We’ve been out of regular-church-going for about 5 months now, and my heart aches to be with a consistent community and to submit to a liturgy. But for one reason or another, we are temporary “heathens”, if you will. This is no secret, and my husband and I are working on checking out some churches in our area this Sunday, but until then, we crave. And I do believe that is part of the difficulty. And more than likely, contributed to my melt earlier.

We need each other. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we don’t like to admit it. Or rather, I don’t. Whether it’s because I think I come off needy, or over-sensitive, or whether it’s just plain pride-- any way you name it, it’s there. And it may carry an extra dose because I’m an extravert, or performer at heart, but I am convinced that we all need community for all the things in our lives that whirl around us without reason—especially as things are changing. I trust my community to be God’s voice of reason and grounding in my life. I trust them to rejoice and struggle with me. And even though this was a momentary shock of reality, a few days out, I’m ready. I’m ready for the world and the plans God is carrying out. I’m ready for the questions and none of the answers. I’m ready for community through people that walk everyday in subjects that don’t matter in some abstract reality, but that change and shape who we are at our core.

So, I’m making cookies tonight. And if I don’t see someone in the hallways-- beware, Kern Hall residents, I’m coming to find you.