At the end of the day, both my wife and I will be unemployed. At this point, I don’t know if I’m walking in faith or foolishness.
Three months ago we moved to Charlotte with the goal of me leaving a job in ministry and going back into corporate America and my wife quitting her job to be a full time mom. We prayed about it, felt peace about it, received many confirmations about it and headed out on an adventure.
For the most part, it’s been amazing. We love the city. We love the food. We found an amazing church. Katie and I have been more unified then ever before in our marriage. Our little boy is growing up faster than we could have imagined.
But it’s been 3 months and I haven’t had so much as a single phone interview. Not. One. Interview. And today is my wife’s last day working remotely at her job. And now is when things get real.
I’d be lying if I said that my faith was as strong as ever and I’m not up all night worrying if we’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. I don’t like to talk about it because I’m prideful and I don’t want to ask for help. I also don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me because, as it turns out, I do a fine job of that all on my own.
I feel like a walking contradiction, especially after my last post about safe faith. Not only am I worrying obsessively, but I’m making myself feel bad for not having MORE faith.
I get annoyed whenever someone asks “How’s the job search going?” Like seriously annoyed because, guys, if something changed I WILL TELL YOU. I mean, it’s really ALL I think about so yeah, I promise you won’t have to ask when I get an interview and especially if I get a job offer.
But it’s not their fault, they mean well. Everyone else has tons of faith for my situation. I know that feeling. I’m the most confident person for someone else but when it comes to my life, I’m a wreck. THIS is why I hate taking risks. Because I hate having to depend on anyone else. It’s so much easier to just do it on my own.
At the same time, I realize how unhealthy and isolating that is. I do it in my marriage all the time. Except the confident facade doesn’t work on my wife. She sees everything and she knows as soon as something is off. And honestly I hate it because I just want everyone to leave me alone. Keep your encouragement and platitudes to yourself. Let me feel sorry for myself in peace!
But reluctantly, I’m learning something through all this. I’m fighting it with every ounce of my being but I’m learning that the risk isn’t the foolishness. Trusting in someone else isn’t foolishness.
The real foolishness is thinking I can control my situation.
It’s foolish to try to minimize risk and hurt and disappointment. It’s foolish to think I don’t need help or encouragement or a strong rebuke for feeling sorry for myself.
And every day I have to remind myself to get the right perspective. Honestly, many days are a wash. Sometimes I get my hopes up, only to grasp at a mirage.
But some days I just sit with my little boy and look over to my hopeful wife and I’m reminded that I’m blessed. I’m reminded that my wife loves me and believes in me and has promised to stand with me and weather any storm that we face.
It’s then that I walk on with this tiny bit of faith I have left. It might look like walking in foolishness or maybe it actually is, but at least I’m not walking alone.