Who Me, an Israelite?!

I wrote this post a week or two ago, actually, but didn’t feel like putting it up quite then.  Now, I think I am ready to share a huge connection between my life and something God has been teaching me.  It’s a longer post today but I truly hope you read it and can be encouraged by it as well. 

The background:

Moving to seminary has been an exciting prospect for several months of my life.  Back in December, my husband got accepted.  In February, we visited campus and I officially resigned from my job.  I started looking for new jobs in March.  I had my small group start praying for me in April.  I got my first promise of an interview in May.  I got my first phone interview in June, followed by another, and another, and another… eight interviews in all. 

I have not received a job offer, much less a job. 

It is easy to become frustrated.  It is easy to think this isn’t fair.  It is easy to become enthralled with the past, to glorify it almost.  I did have a great job.  I had great co-workers.  I had great job stability, I had great benefits, and I loved my students. 

Everyone said I would get a job.  I remember asking my Bible study to pray for me and they did, as a formality, mostly.  “Emily,” one friend/co-worker said, a few years my senior, said, with a sage smile and great confidence, “I just know you’ll get a job.  I mean, I forget that you have to think about that, but seriously.  You’ll get a job.” 

“Emily, you are so talented.  Any district would be lucky to have you.”

“Once you get an in-person interview, you’ll be sure to get a job.  You have such a bright personality!”

“You haven’t gotten a job?  They don’t know what they’re missing!”

I have gotten encouragement from so many people throughout the process, well-meaning and trusted people from my work and my church and my family, people who care about me and truly have faith I’ll get a job.  I shared that faith for a long time.  I mean, I still share that faith, but I am starting to re-think things, too.  I have also needed to face reality, and the fact that it is mid-August and I have signed no contract. 

Mid-Process

I have prayed to God, with fervor.  God has answered my prayers, in some ways.  Initially, I was praying for encouragement – and I got it in a big way.  My first interview was with a very prestigious district and I didn’t technically apply for the position.  I got an interview based on a mostly-finished application, and it went fabulously well.  I made it to round two interviews with flying colors.  (I was eventually turned down for the position via a personal email from the principal, who said she loved meeting me!  But they went with a candidate who was a better fit for their part-time position.  I was okay with that).  The day after this interview, I got another interview in a different district.   This is all after a month of silence, and a few days of praying for affirmation.  God is good, and I praised Him royally for such blessings. 

Then, I got turned down for jobs.  Districts started not getting back to me.  I literally interviewed for a job in June and they never told me, one way or the other.  No returned voicemail or email.  No form letter in the mail.  Nothing.

What next?

So, how does one respond to this?  How do you trust a God who promises to be faithful – and has been so, so faithful in your past – when you have been praying for a job and you have not received?  I have been doing my part – applying for every job within a 20 mile radius of my new home, scouring the Internet for any sort of possibility of work – and God, it might seem, has not been delivering.

With that, I have been frustrated.  Anxious.  Slightly bitter.  Sad.  Time is seemingly running out.  Seminary bills are approaching.  Yes, God is faithful… but how do I respond to this predicament of unanswered prayer?  I am supposed to be working, to provide for our family, to fulfill my calling, to influence tomorrow’s leaders today!   Furthermore, God, I am getting bored.  There is only so much organizing you can do in 550 square feet. 

This is the attitude I have taken on.  It probably could have kept on heading in that direction, had I not come across a familiar passage of Scripture that took on an entirely new level of relevance. 

Here I am, reading through 1^st Samuel.  I used to be a hardcore New Testament girl, if you can give that sort of title to a person based on their Testament preferences.  Anyway, I loved Paul’s letters – loved them!  - and would always be reading through the gospels.  This is certainly not a bad thing, but over the past couple of years, I have developed a thing of sorts for the historical books of the Old Testament.  Blame my husband, the historian (who just told me, “You shouldn’t cast blame on anybody”) or the hardest season of my life ever, when I happened to be in the book of Exodus and every word and every story had depth beyond depth and meaning that applied exactly to what I was going through, but whatever the reason, I like Exodus and the Samuels a lot.  Genesis, too; and Ruth and Joshua, which I haven’t read in a while.  There is something about reading through a story rather than an epistle that opens me up for meaning.  You read Philippians 4:4 (which I love and was used in our wedding), and it says, “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!” and you can have a Bible study kind of like this:

What does this passage mean? (Paul thinks it important to rejoice in the Lord).
What does this passage want us to do?  (Rejoice in the Lord.)
How do we know? (Paul repeats the message)

I can’t believe I’m close to knocking Philippians, one of my favorite books of the Bible, but take this as an ironic and lovingly poking-fun example of a beloved book.  Things are more straightforward with James, Paul, and John; but with Moses or whoever is writing Samuel, you have your work cut out for you.  You get to make your own connections.  They aren’t going to tell you how to think or exactly what God was doing all the time, but you will get a picture of the events and some insight into motives of the characters and get to apply this to your own life.  It’s quite exciting, really.

 

Anyway, here I am in 1^st Samuel.  It’s been a good journey for me but only so-so for the Israelites, who are losing battles and being ruled by some pretty incompetent priests.  At chapter 8, the people of Israel make a bold and ultimately destructive, deadly request.  By people, I mean the elders (v. 4) – the head men in charge of the nations’ people.

“Give us a king to lead us.” 

It’s short.   It’s semi-understandable, considering the shady business the priests were into these days. 

But then, it’s completely absurd.  Absurd!  These people were ruled by God.  The God who parted the Red Sea and killed every single male warrior of Egypt not that long ago in Exodus.  The God who speaks to them, and cares deeply for them. 

But they pray and ask for a king.  God is rightfully upset, being completely and utterly rejected and all, and tells Samuel, His messenger, something interesting. 

“Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.”  (v.9)  (There are some other important things God says earlier, fyi).

Samuel gives them the low down about all the rotten things that will happen when a king comes.  But they won’t budge.  The refuse to listen to Samuel, and repeat their request again, in v. 19. 

And eventually, they get what they asked for.

Allow me to make some parallels, some that are slightly disturbing and/or frightening:

1.   God answers our prayers.  If we are annoying enough and unceasing in our asking, He might just give us what we want, not what we need.  If that doesn’t terrify you, I don’t think you understand much about who God is.  Please forgo reading the rest of this entry and read the Old Testament.

2.    God knows what’s best for us. 

3.   Listening and applying God’s wisdom matters.  The Israelites heard God – they heard Samuel loud and clear and then deliberately ignored the true and good advice.  They suffer dearly for this terrible and ignorant oversight.

This hit me in a particularly fresh way, because I could see myself in the Israelites.  I could see myself begging and asking God the same question, the question that isn’t really a question at all but instead a selfish demand.  My “Give us a king” changed into “Give me a job.”   Everyone else has a job.  I use to have a good job.  I want a job!  Give me a job, God.  Please, God.  I need a job. 

And all this time, I wasn’t really taking the time to consider what was God’s best for me.  I still don’t know, mind you, what that could possibly be, but I wasn’t allowing God the option.  I wasn’t really praying with a pure heart.  I was demanding, just like the Israelites.  They weren’t asking with humble and contrite hearts to be protected in battle, and maybe have a king, but still remaining open to whatever the Lord’s will might have been. They had an agenda and a plan by means of a king.  God was merely a pawn to help them accomplish their own means. 

I shudder.  I don’t want that to be me, God; but how often have I used You in a similar way, to meet the needs I have decided for myself?  I figure out the plan and then pray, because You are amazing, and You promise to give whatever I ask for in prayer, right?  Jesus said that.  It has to be true, in every single context, right? 

Needless to say, I have been humbled.  I am being humbled, rather; and it has been good for my soul.

I am still praying for a job.  But I am more praying for the bigger issues underlying this prayer.  I am praying that God would provide for me and Ryan financially and that I would find purpose in whatever I do this fall and throughout the school year.  I am praying that I would grow in my faith and trust of God, and that I could share with others about how faithful God has been, because that is a big story in my relatively short life, the story of God’s incredible faithfulness.  I am praying for contentment.  I do want a job, but I have cried a few tears and started to let go of the prospect of my own classroom for this school year, and I think that is part of the process of growing in faith and in life.

God has a plan for me.  It might be a job, teaching K-5 music in a classroom, like I wanted and prayed for.  But it might be something very, very different.  I pray that I might have the faith and courage to believe and live like I believe He can do that.  His plans are greater than our plans.  I want a job, but far more importantly, I want Him to be my true King. 

Wow! You're close!

I am training to run the Chicago Half Marathon on September 11th.  This will be my 3rd race since vowing to never race again in 2002, at the end of cross country running.  However, I feel that any vow made by a weary 17 year old runner should be taken with a grain of salt and I am definitely okay breaking the vow for this race.  Training has been a great motivator and purpose-builder for me in my running.  I would probably run for fun, to an extent, but I certainly wouldn't run 10 miles on a Saturday morning for the love of the "game." 

I did, however, run 10 miles this past Saturday morning, as a part of training.  Long runs are good for me - I can tell I am a distance runner, because my body starts to feel good after two miles, and then gets another kick after five miles or so - but they are hard.  I get intimidated by the length before I run, and then when I run, I sometimes get a little bored, honestly; and being bored while experiencing the minor aches and pains that go along with running 10 miles makes for a troubling combination at times.

I was telling my friend Danielle about my upcoming run so we could plan to Skype around it, and she asked how many miles I would be doing.  I told her 10, and since we were actually gchatting, she didn't get the Eeyore-esque tone of voice that would have been clearly conveyed in a face-to-face conversation, expressed with a sigh at the looming prospect of 10 lonely miles. 

Danielle said, "Wow!  That means you're getting close to your race!"

Wow?  Close to my race?  That's your response?

What a great response. 

I think that's a response I need to take when I'm experiencing something difficult.  Usually, we go through something hard because there is something good at the end, whether it's moving to a new place or being refined in character.  I don't know if this applies to every situation, but often, we have to do and/or get through a less-pleasant something on the way to a more-pleasant something. 

Turns out, the run was fantastic.  I was tired at the start, but got the two mile kick and was inspired at my turn-around spot at five miles.  Around mile six (or at 1:08, whatever method you prefer to be informed about my run), it start to rain.  It was a light rain, meaning the drops were normal sized but not coming down too hard.  By the time I got to mile eight, it was hard to see through the rain and I was completely drenched and there was thunder and lightning.  I kind of felt like James Bond.  By kind of, I mean not really at all, but I did feel strong and powerful, facing the elements like that.

By the last half mile, every step I took I could feel my feet squishing in my shoes.  I was squinting as to avoid excess water from blowing into my eyes.  I hardly stopped to walk when it was all over, because I just wanted to get in my apartment.  I was laughing at this crazy weather and that I had survived and because it was fun!  Running in the rain is fun.  I don't think I would have enjoyed starting the run in the rain, but it was a motivating second half, and encouraged me to run faster. 

I'm sure you're all dying to know, of course, that I ran the whole thing in one hour and 42 minutes and 38 seconds.  Oh wait - your family doesn't exercise by the stopwatch and tell everyone about it when you're done?  Oh... interesting.

I had a great run, running in the rain.  I had renewed perspective.  I also took this "great" picture of myself right after I was done, thinking of this very blog.  This is true vunerability, friends.  Enjoy it, and thanks again for reading!

 

What's in a name?

I like stories.

I like sharing stories.  Or, as my husband reminded me, when I told him I was probably going to start a blog, I like sharing everything.  (To an extent, he is absolutely correct). 

So, why start “The Emily Connection”?  Why call it “The Emily Connection”?  Well, here’s a story to start us off:

One day, in kindergarten music, I was telling my students that sadly, Ricky (the raccoon who sings and lives behind my piano) was not going to be visiting for a while.  I explained that Ricky was sick with a cold and wouldn’t be able to sing with us and he was staying at my apartment for until he got better.  (In a sheer coincidence, I, too, had a cold.  Funny how those things coincided).  

No sooner had I explained poor Ricky’s condition than one bright kindergartener’s hand shot up as her eyes opened wide.  Feeling compelled to learn what brought on this dramatic reaction, I called on her.

“Mrs. Aubrey!” she said, nearly breathless.  “Mrs. Aubrey, I made a connection!  Ricky lives in an apartment, and so do I!”

Of course, then, in true kindergarten fashion, nearly every student felt the need to share that they had a connection between something and another. 

But connections are kind of a big deal, and that is what I think this blog will be about.

Our lives are connected to lots of things.  We are connected to our families and friends, of course; but we are also connected to the place we live and the places we frequent.  We are connected to our past, which  has shaped you,  and we are connected to our ideas and to the ideas of those around us. 

Should you continue to read this blog, you will probably get connected to bits and pieces of my thoughts and what is going on in my life.  Also, I already have some entries mapped out and they connect my life to things I have read and/or am reading in scripture.  I believe that’s one of the most important connections we can make.

So, I thank you in advance for reading.  I’m warning you right now that I can be wordy.  And emotional.  And weepy.  (Though that last one won’t affect you too much, as a reader separated by miles but connected via the Internet.  Ah, what a connection!)

Thank you so much for caring to read J  I hope you that you will come back!