Trust in the Lord

I keep saying the same thing lately, "I know I'm where God wants me."

Its my code word for, "I have no effing idea what is happening or how on earth this good, but I have confidence that it is right."

First it was an unexpected new co-worker at Loyola. I told one of the girls I was staying, and expected her to ooze with excitement (which she did), but what startled me was her response, "Larissa! That is so exciting! God is preparing something awesome at Loyola with you and Taylor."

Taylor, a good unisex name. I hoped it was male, so I could still own my female discipleship title. No such hope.

At first, I was bitter and jealous, and asked everyone to pray for my pride, jealousy and territorial-ness.

I still don't know what it will look like, but I'm excited nonetheless. In some ways, its freeing. Another woman to bond with the girls so that I can focus on the few that really connect with me. Another woman to lead bible studies so that I can be freed to focus on theology. I have no idea how it will work out, but I am confident that God is working in this for my good, and definitely for the good of the girls at Loyola.

Then, I called everyone I knew on Saturday telling them about my awesome new job with a family I loved. I couldn't wait to spend time with a precocious but fantastic 2 year old and her shy but energetic 4 year old brother. I imagined days spent at the Farmer's Market, afternoons at the Zoo, imaginary safaris around their River West condo.

They essentially told me I had the job on Saturday. We talked hours, vacation time, commuting adjustments when they moved to the suburbs. We talked discipline policies and childcare philosophies. We talked pay rate and they made sure the kids got 5 times to say goodbye to me.

I'll never see them again. The e-mail from the nanny agency was sweet. They loved me. They called me a breath of fresh air. And then they said they we're hiring me. All for good reasons. All reasons, that if I were honest, should have stopped me from saying yes. I don't really want to commute an hour to work. I don't want to be a with a family that lives in the burbs. But I loved them.

I have been freaking out for the last few hours about that reality. Partly embarrassed that I told everyone I got the job. Mostly concerned that as of next week, I will only be working 7 hours a week. But I know God will provide. If I am patient and discerning, God will put me in a job that is right for me.

I already have one interview scheduled and a mother that hopes this family that rejected me was providential so I could work with them.

There is hope.

I'm just working on taking what I have cranialized and believing it with my heart.