It's warm. Not as warm as the weather man promises it will get, but maybe more like a light blanket of warmth that covers you as soon as you step outside the door. The sun is giving off that perfect, clear kind of ray that makes the grass seem greener, the day seem more hopeful, and my parent's American flag more majestic as it waves in the breeze. Across the street I can see those same sunbeams begin to light up the swaying dandelion heads as the field turns from a sleepy gray into a speckled yellow. A squirrel sits in the shade chewing his food. It's as if he also knows the comfy-warm blanket feeling will soon turn into a smothering heat, and he wants to enjoy the coolness of the morning as much as possible. In the distance I can hear the roar of truck motors carrying their Sunday-dressed cargo to the local churches.
Inside is a familiar confusion of sleeping dogs, busy parents, and elderly darlings getting ready for the day. Yup, I'm home. Over two weeks ago I stepped off the plane, struggled through the garble of jet lag and security checks, and found myself in a changed yet familiar place. The highways are still busy, the stores are still stocked with more choices than you can shake a stick at, and my hometown is still growing in church denominations and lessening in functioning businesses. Since being back, I've begun the painful process of putting feelings into words. Not all of it is painful, and oddly enough the words I find are sometimes in Japanese now. There has always been a weightiness accompanying the joy of returning to a childhood home. It wasn't until I was standing on an old rusted bridge by a lake one misty morning that I was able to put words to that weightiness; intruder. For all the memories and history that attached me to this childhood home, I felt the intruder. While this town was still so familiar, it had moved on and changed and I was a stranger in it seeing the familiar yet having no ties to the present.
It wasn't a bad realization by any means. If anything it was a relief to finally put it to words. The only downside was realizing that I was in a tri-state of limbo. Here I was, recently returned from the wonderfully foreign country of Japan without any ties to Georgia or Minnesota. I simply...was. So, there I was: Georgia intruder, Minnesota seeker, and Japan rememberer. I didn't belong to Georgia anymore, as much as I enjoyed being back to visit. I had no prospects of returning to Minnesota which was my recent home, and I had the fear of forgetting my treasured memories of Japan.
And then, God showed up. What a silly expression. God was always there. It's more like He suddenly donned His brightest attire so my dim eyes could see. The experience was brilliant, breath-taking, and something I am still working on comprehending. I got a job. I know this is amazing in and of itself in this economy, but let me tell you the whole eye-popping story. Keep in mind, I am pretty normal and my resume will not be chosen as Microsofts latest template idea for those seeking resume ideas. Yes, I worked hard on it. Yes, I was confident in my skill set, but...well, you'll see. Anyway, after talking with a dear friend about my joining the job seeking ranks of Minnesotan citizens, I get an e-mail from said friend to apply for a position at her work place. The job looked great, I would be working with my friend, and I had no hope of convincing them that I could succeed in this position.
This was a role I had never filled and I was discouraged. How could I apply for a job I had never done before? Sitting and answering phones I have done, but they were looking for...well, not me. So I thought. My friend thought differently. After much encouragement and reassurances, I applied. I began the resume process (for those of you going through that process right now I am soooooo sorry) and found that not only had God equipped me for a job like this, but I was also excited to see myself in it.
Long story short the resume was sent, and I began the other peace stealing process of waiting. As I settled into my wait mode suddenly my phone flashes in my face an unknown Minnesota number. Keep in mind, I SENT MY RESUME THAT MORNING! Three days and two phone interviews later I am clutching the same phone as I hear the words, "we would like to hire you" spoken in my ear. After fumbling through the usual benefits and scheduling challenges of a new hire (I was struggling, the other lady was awesome) I sat down to try to sort the affect an awesome God has when He moves in a not so awesome person's life when my phone rings once more. Oh yes, there's more.
Again, my phone tells me this person is from my soon to be Minnesotan home. Say hello to God's divine divine curve-ball number two, my former room mate Emily. "I just toured this cute apartment and I was wondering if you would like to be my room mate." So, let's recap: by the end of this wonderful, jaw dropping day I was employed with an apartment and roommate! Yeah, that just happened. God and I had a little talk after all the phone calls were done and rejoicing was complete. I had one simple request of Him after all that; please let me catch my breath before You do anything else!
