It’s been a long couple of months.
I thought things were changing, and they did. But they also didn’t. I feel like I went on a journey, but if you looked at a map of my life, you would find that I didn’t really go anywhere. And yet I kind of did.
In September, a position was announced. It would be shared between chaplaincy and another department. It would be all days during the week. It would be a terrific opportunity for me to learn and grow at work, while also spending time differently with my family.
I prayed. I applied. I interviewed. I was chosen.
I was sad because it meant I was leaving my beloved overnight weekend people. I was excited because I would have time on the weekend with my family. I was invigorated because I would be experiencing a new position.
I switched to days so I could be readily available for when the other department was ready to have me start with them. I psyched myself up for new people and new roles.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Things got complicated. Communication broke down. Weeks went by. I didn’t start the new job.
I was frustrated. I was confused.
Talks were had. Negotiations were held. Finally a decision was made. My decision to not go forward with the job. And as they always have, my chaplaincy management supported me.
So the day after Thanksgiving, I go back to my beloved overnight weekends. It will be like nothing ever changed.
But I think I have. I think I have learned a couple of things.
I’ve learned that I have guts. It took guts for me to invite change by applying for the job, but it also took guts for me to turn down the job many week later.
I’ve learned that I can take take counsel when I need to. That can sometimes be difficult for people with counseling backgrounds.
I’ve learned that while I love to build communities, not all communities are mine to build.
I’ve learned that support from those who care makes all the difference.
I’m not gonna lie: I don’t want to take this same journey again. I may look at opportunities a little differently now. Not through a lens of fear, but rather one of courage and knowledge that I can make decisions about my own future.