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We’re moving. We don’t know when. We don’t know exactly where – although we have a general idea. And we have no jobs. What do we do now? How did we end up in this situation??
It all started last winter when I decided I just couldn’t teach another year. I had taught elementary school for 14 years and spent two years in a district position. I taught fourth grade the last two years, spent many years in second grade, and did a stint in kindergarten, third, and computer lab. The thing is, I used to love teaching. I got excited every summer as I planned for the upcoming year, reviewing what worked and what didn’t. I enjoyed my students – their personalities, their sense of humor, their excitement about learning something awesome. I loved the challenge of bringing below-grade-level students up to par with their peers (reading was my specialty). I just loved teaching. And then one day, I didn’t. I know it didn’t happen overnight, but it felt that way – like I just woke up one day and realized I couldn’t bear the thought of doing this for another 15 years.
So I resigned. I did what too few teachers do when their passion dims – I got out. I still hoped to get a district position, but that hasn’t materialized. I wasn’t too worried about money because my husband had a job. Then, one day, my husband no longer had a job, and we were left floundering. Looking for jobs that aren’t materializing. Planning to sell our house and move out closer to the kids and grandkids. And hoping for jobs. Praying for jobs. Applying for all sorts of jobs.
It seems strange for the school year to be starting without me. For the better part of 25 years – counting my homeschooling years – the school calendar marked a new beginning. Now, it marks an ending. But through all this, I hold on to Jesus. He knew when I resigned that my husband would lose his job. He knew that I wouldn’t get the district jobs I’ve applied for. He knows which of the myriad jobs I have applied for (or will apply for) will be the one for me. He knew and knows it all. And He isn’t the least bit worried.
I hold tight to a verse that was spoken to me – no, not audibly – by the Spirit of God many years ago, and which I have seen fulfilled in my life many times: Psalm 37:25, “I have been young and now I am old, Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, or his descendants begging bread.” God will come through – but not on my timetable – on His. He came through when my husband couldn’t find a job that would support us and the kids were still babies. He came through when my husband filed for divorce, and then changed his mind and we worked it out. He came through when our kids were begging to go to school, so they could play baseball, and I had to say goodbye to homeschooling. He came through when our youngest son had to have multiple knee surgeries – and I could take him to all the doctor’s and therapy appointments because I had lost a job. He came through time and time again. And He’ll come through this time.
So we’re moving – where? when? what job? God knows, and that’s good enough for me.