Baltimore is not the city where young people go to retire. I was therefore counting on work being easier to find there than in Portland.
I’d suspected for a while that it hadn’t been just the Portland economy keeping me from more than the occasional odd job though. After applying for more than 200 jobs in a year-and-a-half, I came to believe that perhaps God was keeping me from gainful employment as a means of leading me into rest and healing.
I could only hear so many times that I was fantastic but someone else got the job before I started to wonder if the pattern might indicate something. My husband and I agreed I needed to stop spinning my wheels and embrace the rest and healing.
More than a year later – three months before we ended up moving back east – I was hired as a courtesy clerk at New Seasons Market. The pattern had been broken. Surely I would find work again in Baltimore.
Knowing that Ben could find a pastorate anywhere along the East Coast and wanting to move towards me being able to not work (we kept coming back to that list we’d made), we decided I would focus my job search on freelance writing.
It only took one month and a handful of conversations about the lengthy ordination process of most denominations before we became discouraged. The pastorate search was going to take much longer than we’d anticipated.
I of course responded by running out to find a full time job.
Within weeks, I had several interviews scheduled, none of which led to a job I felt able to accept.
Meanwhile, God was up to something else entirely. He seemed to have been more concerned with our list of desires than we were.
Without any prompting on my part other than perhaps a LinkedIn résumé update, an editor I’d worked with for two months ten years ago contacted me. He’d just started a new job and wanted to know if I’d be interested in doing some freelance editing for him.
Suddenly a door had opened.