Unfinished

Most stories worth telling have a happy ending. This one doesn't. In fact, it doesn't have an ending at all. And that is exactly why I think it is worth telling. 

The story is my own and it takes place in reality.

Not too long ago, I lived in Southern California. I loved the friends I had there and the proximity to family. I embraced the always-sunny, never-under-75-degree weather. I enjoyed special conveniences like owning a car (AND a truck!), making money (always a plus), living close to Disneyland, and not needing a GPS to know my way around. I was good at what I did. I was known. I was liked. I was comfortable.

When my husband wanted to pursue law school, we considered all our options — local, semi-local, far, and clear across the country schools. Ironically, of all our options, the favored school was the one cross-country. We decided together that this was something we wanted to do for our careers. The decision was not any sort of sacrifice on his or my part, nor was it a "giving-in" to do what the other spouse wanted. It was an individual and mutual desire that we both felt and saw confirmed in several different ways. 

My efforts at cross-country job searching before the move were minimal. My main focus was on ending my job well and spending time with friends and family. I knew I could be more focused once I arrived in town anyways.

We have now been Virginia residents for two months, yet I still have trouble focusing on the job search. The first month here was largely spent unpacking, organizing, cleaning, re-organizing, and decorating. The following month been filled meeting with people, trying to make friends, attempting to relax, and taking in a large dose of "freak-out" moments because I can't figure out what kind of job I want to pursue, much less, how to pursue it. The search is literally going nowhere and it is safe to say that I don't know what I'm doing.  

I would like to say that I trusted God and that He opened the door to my dream job and voila (with a "so therefore trust God" and "God is always good" moral of the story, of course). 

But the dream job hasn't happened yet. And to be honest, the "trust in God" thing is a work in process. Oh yes, I'm learning to trust and yes, I'm learning to have patience. But clearly, God's work is not complete in me and in the meantime, learning to trust and being patient with it all kinda stinks. 

I just want to say, in the middle of this story before it ends, that God is good. All the time. No, I don't know how this story ends. I imagine that it will eventually have a happy ending and that I will accept a job offer and tell everyone how God is good. But for now, in this uncomfortable in-between, in this new place where friends are few, family is far, the weather has already dipped below 75 degrees, and Disneyland is nowhere near… still, God is good. 

All the time.