The Decision

It started about five years ago, when my parents and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Dad:  "What do you want to do with your life?"

Me:  "I really love teaching, and I love my students, and things are going great right now, but I'm not sure if I want to teach high school till I retire."

Dad:  "Do you want to be a principal or academic dean?"

Me: "No.  Too much administration; not enough teaching."

Dad:  "A DRE (Director of Religious Education)?"

Me:  "No.  Too much administration; not enough teaching."

Dad:  "Youth minister?"

Me:  "Not enough structure.  I like bells and schedules.  Also, too much event-planning; not enough teaching."

Dad:  "What DO you want to do?"

Me:  "Now that we're talking about it, I realize that I would probably really enjoy teaching college.  I love the classroom interactions with students, especially when they facilitate further interactions with students outside the classroom.  I like that I would still have structure and scheduling.  Yet I could teach students on a deeper and more advanced level.  Yes, I think I'd like to teach college."

So I began exploring doctoral programs, drooling over this one and that one, yet never thinking it was quite the right time for that.  Meanwhile, my school asked me to mentor new teachers year after year, and I enjoyed helping new teachers navigate the adventurous (and occasionally treacherous) waters of teaching high school.  The diocese asked me to teach some classes for them, and an out-of-town college invited me to  join their catechist training team on a part-time basis.  I enjoyed meeting the new people (not to mention the relative receptivity of an adult audience) and I liked the intellectual challenge.  And I continued my own studies, which continually reenergized me as a teacher.

In March, quite out of the blue, a university I respect invited me to join their faculty.  Me?  Yes, they said.  I possess the combination of qualities they need.  They can offer opportunities for growth - growth from teaching at a different academic level, certainly, but I can also take classes from them in preparation for eventual doctoral work...which they will provide.

How often does one's dream job land in one's lap?  I expected to feel pure, unadulterated joy at such a prospect.  Yet in the short time I had to make this life-changing decision, I wrestled with many mixed emotions.  The job requires moving farther away from family and from many friends.  Many years of investing heart and soul into a school, students, and faculty coming to an end.  Giving up my wonderful house and beloved garden.  Life surprised me with a fantastic opportunity, but it requires sacrifices.  Suddenly many aspects of my life, formerly taken for granted, became very dear.  Could I give them up?

God spoke, loud and clear.  I do not believe that every open door comes from Him.  Indeed, I've received many attractive offers over the years that I knew were not from Him.  But this time was different.  Over and over again I heard the Lord indicate that this time the offer came from His providential hand.  How could I say no?

With mixed emotions, I said yes.  With mixed emotions, I shared the news of my decision with colleagues, students, friends, and family.  With mixed emotions, they congratulated me and wished me all the best.  With mixed emotions (okay, maybe not so mixed) I say my goodbyes.  Letting go is hard...and the only way I can do it is knowing that it leads me to something even better.

Thank you - with all my heart - to all my colleagues, students, and friends who gave me 11 wonderful years and prepared me to receive this gift from the Lord.  Let's keep each other in prayer.

Storms Prune the Garden

We had some wicked storms last week, and my glorious garden - which showed so much promise for summer - suffered the rage of wind & hail.  I surveyed the damage, heartbroken, and pulled out my pruning shears to finish off what Mother Nature began.  I forced myself to remember that pruning, even violent pruning of the kind the storm wreaked, effects more growth and greater fruitfulness.  That reminder was the only way I could bring myself to do the cutting.
I presently face a storm in my own life.  I have a life-changing decision to make.  One moment I find myself thrilled, elated about possibilities; the next moment I cower before all the potential changes I face.  I despise making decisions and resist even the best of changes.  Decisions and changes feel like storms to me, however much I might wish myself to possess the spirit of those who eagerly embrace them.
Yet pruning causes greater growth.  When we allow God to cut away even healthy growth, we grow back fuller, richer, more fruitful.  Why?  Is it that we rely more on Him when He removes things we've relied upon in His place?  Is it an exercise in trust and obedience?  Is it that He's saving people like me from our self-made ruts that become oh-so-comfortable but don't challenge us to reach for greater things?
I don't know the answer, exactly.  But coincidentally (or providentially?), I read this yesterday from Discovering the Feminine Genius by Katrina Zeno:
One thing in life is predictable: change.  Change, however, isn't arbitrary.  God allows the stretching, fracturing, and reconfiguring of our lives in order to weave our unique tapestries in a more holistic (and holy) way.  
Stretching, fracturing, and reconfiguring.  That about sums up my life at the moment.  How very wonderful to know that even though change feels so hard, God works through it to cultivate my interior garden.