{Let's Catch Up, Shall We?}

If we scheduled a coffee date seven weeks ago, I would have told you that I am so happy to begin my new job teaching art classes at a small school in Dallas. I would have told you that I am nervous because I have never taken an art class in my life, but I have confidence this is where God determined my hands to work.

If we met up to take a walk in my new neighborhood five weeks ago, I would have looked into your eyes and burst into tears, because living alone is hard and I am scared of this big city and its foreign culture. I would have asked if we could go home and sit on the couch because my stomach feels like metal gloves are performing power punches on me like a boss. I would tell you there is a bizarre stabbing pain in my right should blade, but that I'm sure it would all be okay. Because my personality leans toward trying not to feel sorry for myself and I don't want to make your mind cloudy with sad thoughts. I want to feel like I am the one who will always be okay.. but the truth is, I am not. Nobody is. And it's good to understand this chain-breaking truth.

If you called me four weeks ago, you would hear a few rings and my voice mail. Not totally unusual because I am the worst at answering my phone, but this time would be different because I was laying in a hospital bed recovering from getting my gallbladder removed. You can thank my mom for taking my phone from me, because rumor has it I say some crazy things when I'm recovering from anesthesia. Mom, thank you for saving my booty from potential disasters ;)

If you stopped by my apartment three weeks ago, you would see boxes everywhere. I promise, only one person moved into this apartment. And I really, really promise I am trying to learn this whole "downsizing" concept. The first step is admitting I have a problem. Ok, I have a problem. I also have a problem remembering what the next step is after admitting you have a problem... Oops. But you would also see a smile spread between my heated cheeks because though I'm a bit embarrassed by how much I have and how hopeless I feel when I think of unpacking it all, my mom would be busy in the other room finding a home for each of my things. She is a great source of strength to me, and I don't know what I would do without her. Oh wait, I do. Sit in my jams, eat a Popsicle, raid Netflix, and ignore the mountains of boxes encasing me.

If you asked me two weeks ago, I would tell you I am struggling with missing being close to my family. I would tell you I struggle with knowing that moving away from home and having your first job -- that is neither as easy nor as natural as it seems -- is typical of nearly every man and woman. It's practically a right of passage. But I would grip my cup of coffee and tell you with a shaky voice that I love my family, I miss being close to home, and I want to be closer to them. In all honesty. And I would tell you I struggle with believing the Lord really listened to me when I said that.

If we went to dinner one week ago, I would tell you I left my jaw on the floor at home when the Lord made Himself known as a loving, faithful, and trustworthy Father when He gave me an interview for a first grade teaching position in San Antonio. With my family. At home. In a school district known to be highly competitive and filled with divinely talented teachers. I would tell you I am a homebody and enjoy the comforts of home compared to the hustle and bustle of traveling and jumping on planes, but for this job, I would jump on 500 planes to get to this interview. I would tell you hope stirred in my heart at that moment that the Lord heard my prayers and would grant me a way home.

If you came over last night, you would see me in my kitchen with flour in my hair, chocolate chips scattered across my wood floors, batter smeared all over my counters, and cookies cooling on racks spread on every clear counter space I could find. Because I managed to bake six dozen batches of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in a semi-mindless panic while watching the finale of The Bachelorette. I admit, I gave into the craze, I became attached, I developed pimples while watching the last few episodes, and I could not sit still until I saw a delicious diamond on her finger. I suppose I will make six Dallas friends very happy this week when I decide to eat every cookie give them all away..

Oh, and I would tell you I got the job.


I.
Got.
The.
Job.
IGOTTHEJOB.
I am going to be a first grade teacher in San Antonio!

Then I would hug your neck,
grab your face,
look in your eyes,
and tell you from the smallest bits of my heart that are incapable of understanding how I can tell you this when I struggle with believing this myself but still believe that you need to hear this,

"God is trustworthy. His plans for you, they are so good. He knows your heart. He knows your hurts. He knows your desires. He's listening. He wants only those things that will bring you the most joy for the longest time possible. He knows you. He will provide what you need. And He wants to give you good gifts. Trust Him."

I can't wait to share more with you about this new adventure, but I want to stop at that. Because that's what I want you to read. Read it again. And again. Commit it to heart. 

And tell it back to me when I step in my classroom and realize I am starting my first year of teaching at ground zero. And I don't know the first thing about what I am doing.
Gulp.
Can. Not. Wait.