I have been lying in bed, unable to sleep, for the past ninety minutes. I’m too excited to sleep. A few days ago, I was offered a job working from home full-time.
I have been waiting and praying for this opportunity for over six months, and I had lost hope that it would come.
For six months, I prayed daily, fervently, desperately, for a work from home job to present itself to me.
Three times, a job did present itself, and three times, the job fell through after several interviews. Once, I even submitted a sample project with great feedback from the hiring manager – and still didn’t get the job.
I cried. I journaled in my Bible about hopelessness. I posted on Instagram and Facebook about trials. I begged God. I read books about waiting and when life is hard. I wrote here about being mad at God. I talked to my therapist at length about feeling like a failure as a mother. I sank into depression.
All the while, I applied for dozens of jobs every week, and I prayed daily for God to bring the right job to me.
The harder I tried to control my future, the more depressed I became. I began to lose hope.
And then one day, my therapist told me that she wouldn’t clear me for my bariatric surgery unless I was not depressed anymore. Her reasoning was that, if I couldn’t handle the reality of my job situation, I would probably not cope well with the dramatic life changes that the surgery would bring.
I was really angry with her for a few days, but then I decided to accept my job situation.
I just decided.
The tears didn’t dry up overnight, but my attitude changed.
I accepted my job and searched for the good in it. I enjoyed my coworkers and looked forward to seeing them. I performed my daily tasks with gladness. I actually started to like going to work each day.
I stopped applying for work from home jobs every day. I applied for a few here and there, but sitting down at the computer was no longer a priority in my evenings.
I applied for some teaching positions and looked into putting the girls into school. I thought, I have no idea what God wants for me, so I’m going to cast a wide net and see what He makes happen.
If the girls were supposed to go to school, they would go. If they were supposed to stay home, they would stay. I trusted God to show me what to do, and I told Him so.
I had realized that staying home with my kids had become an idol to me. That day, I was thinking about heaven and dying for no good reason. But I realized that I would rather be here on earth with my kids than in heaven with God, and I had the conscious thought that that was a messed up way to be looking at things.
It has been a struggle, but I have turned my heart around a bit, longing less for moments with my girls and longing more for Jesus.
This change of heart coincided with my previous change in attitude.
Then, like three times before, an interview presented itself.
I went into the interview with no expectations, having given the entire situation over to God. I hung up the phone, not hoping for good news. I just went through the motions.
The day after my second interview, I was offered a job.
A full-time from home job.
I find it very interesting that God gave me the job I was so desperate for, after I stopped being desperate for it.
Isn’t that just like our God? We have to give up the control and let Him do His thing in order to see big things happen.
I think of Abraham and Hagar when Sarah took matters into her own hands and decided to produce an heir. It turned out badly.
I am so fortunate that God protected me from the consequences of trying to do it all myself. I would have gladly accepted one of the three previous jobs, none of which were clearly right for me, and then what might have happened? I don’t know, and I’m glad I don’t have to find out.
© 2017, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.