I’m a self-proclaimed list maker. Even as a kid I remember every time that I had a school project, an assortment of Saturday morning chores to do, or even an upcoming summer trip, the first step was always to pull out a sheet of notebook paper and a pen. I’d often spend more time writing out and checking off my list than I would actually doing the work, the cleaning, or the packing. Something about having that tangible place where I could see the intentionality of my plans made me feel secure. I prided myself on being prepared. Even though I knew it was rare for every item on the list to get checked off, anything that was missed was likely to be minor. Besides, just having the list meant that I had thought things through, and I could prove it.
Needless to say I get a little antsy when life goes off script. I start to sweat if I don’t have the next several steps in my sight. I’m fascinated with improvisational actors because what they do is miles and miles outside of my comfort zone. Nothing terrifies me more than having to “wing it.” A good friend who happens to be very carefree and spirited calls me the “plaid princess.” It’s a term of endearment that suits me well – straight, clean lines, lots of structure. Practical. That’s how my brain works. I’m always looking ahead, anticipating what is to come and writing up my lists accordingly.
However yesterday I did something that I would have never written down on any list (except maybe a list of things I’d never do). I quit my job without having any prospects for something new. Just typing those words makes my heart beat a bit faster. It wasn’t as abrupt or thoughtless as it may sound – I’ve been struggling with this job for almost a year now. But I’m well aware that there isn’t anything about this decision that doesn’t appear crazy. I work from home, my hours are flexible. In the fall we’ll begin our fourth year of homeschooling the boy. Having had one interview and spoken to a few recruiters in the past few weeks, everyone has the same question. “You’ve got a good thing going here, why would you want to give that up?” And they’re right, on the surface my situation is ideal. Except that it isn’t.
Each day it becomes clearer to me how much I have suffocated myself with my own false sense of security. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve become a slave to the lists. At any given time what’s scrolling through my head is an electronic marquee sign of items that I need to attend to because I’m the only one who can. And as the words roll by the voice in my head tells me that I have no options. I have to stick with this job because it’s the only thing that will afford me the ability to do all of the things. I’ve traded peace in my home and joy in my soul for a “flexible schedule.” That’s the lie I’ve been living.
Over the past few weeks I found myself having conversations and hearing messages that reminded me to raise my eyes, lift my head, and stop looking for God in the neat little box where I’ve placed Him. This week in particular, as I spent my mornings volunteering with the team at King’s Harbor Church Vacation Bible School, my heart has been encouraged in ways I can’t fully describe. I was approached by people who thought I was a teacher or a motivational speaker. When I shared that I’ve worked in accounting for the past twenty years the reaction was, “You sit at a desk all day? You need to be using your gifts!” These words struck me deeply, as this has been my secret prayer request for quite some time.
Until recently I have not spoken these things out loud because they seem ungrounded, lofty. They don’t make practical sense. The desire of my heart is to work in a space of integrity, with a team that I can safely invest myself in. I want to serve those in need, to comfort the grieving. I want to write and create things that inspire and encourage. Crunching numbers has kept the bills paid but it is most definitely not my passion. In fact dealing with people’s money almost always seems to bring out the worst in them.
On paper I’m not qualified to do much beyond the number crunching. Being five classes away from a bachelor’s degree doesn’t translate well onto a job application or a resume. Several years of non-profit program management and volunteer work don’t add up in a salary history. But this week I was reminded that God is bigger than my limitations. As I stood before two hundred kids today and shared the following passage from Jeremiah, the truth spoke life into me: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’”
I don’t know God’s plans but I am learning to rest in the knowledge that He does. I don’t know what the next two minutes, two weeks, or two years holds for me. For the first time in my life I have no map to where I’m headed, no list of what to pack, and no script to follow. But I am learning to look forward with excited expectation instead of fear. I’m putting this out there in the hopes that you will also be encouraged regarding the uncertainties in your own life and that you will pray for me as I grow and learn how to surrender my own.
Carrie Joy(ful) 