Eight twenty-somethings sat squished around a card table. It has become a Monday night tradition.
Although I sit among them with minimal elbow space, I feel far away. Six of them are in graduate school together taking the conversation to a level where I spend more time trying to find the verb in the sentence than actually comprehending it. The other two have jobs. Real jobs, careers. They make money, own homes, and cook real meals.
There I am. Lost among friends. It's not their fault. Does that mean it's my fault?
My fault I didn't get into grad school? My fault I don't have a job? My fault I'm stuck in limbo? My fault that sometimes I wear work clothes just so I can feel like a real person?
Even putting those words on paper... er... the screen seems ridiculous. But it's very real. Real enough to bring tears to my eyes... again.
Let's just be real: job searching sucks. (Although, I have a new appreciation for rejection letter because it means the company loves you enough to tell you they don't want you rather than just letting you guess).
People always ask me what I'm called to do, if I feel led to a certain job or company, etc. What the heck does that even mean?
I am called to do the same thing every one else is called to do: to love and serve the Lord wherever He puts us.
For six of my Monday dinner buddies that means serving Him through divinity school. For the other two, it means honoring Him in their respective careers.
For me, it means trusting in the unknown. It means looking hopefully towards the future (whatever that is) but also finding a way to enjoy today. It means adding "free Monday dinner and enjoyable socialization time" to my list of 1,000 gifts. It means knowing this time in between isn't a wasteland. It means trusting that I haven't been deserted in this desert.
It means sometimes I get to write mopey posts because, in order to be a real person, I need to be real about my struggles and fears. I don't have it all together. I don't know what I'm going to be if I grow up. I don't know what tomorrow looks like.
But I do know One who will accompany me tomorrow.
Because He is faithful.
"Yet still I dare to hope when I remember this: the faithful love of the Lord never ends. His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness. His mercies begin a new each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritence' therefore I will hope in Him." Lamentations 3:21-24
Keeping it real,