Fullest Potential

Who is Jesus (Part 1)

Word ArtEarlier this year I was at an event. There were hundreds of people there. I began to feel extremely claustrophobic. Not just because the room was stuffy and full of people. I’ve been in many rooms that were stuffy and full of people. No, this was much different. I was on the verge of tears. Why? No one around me seemed bothered and yet here I was surrounded by a crowd of people wondering if I was the only one who was struck with this sense… I couldn’t put it into words. Not right then. It took a while, but here I am attempting to put into words a message that I believe needs to be shared.

I began to pray about this as the day progressed and I would be hit again with this tremendous sense of claustrophobia, heaviness and grief. As I was praying I sensed God say, “When people are ruled by a spirit of religion, they put Me in a box, and whenever someone puts me in a box, it allows no room for My Spirit to move in their lives. That is why so many people live in a box.”

I began to think over my own life. I too, have attempted put God in a box. I have lived in a box afraid to step out of my comfort zone. God does not fit in a box, and His people were not intended to live in a box either. Inside the walls of these “boxes” there is much pain! Outside of the box there is tremendous freedom and healing.

God does not fit in a box and His people were not created to live in a box!

The life inside the box is stagnant and allows all kinds of abuse to grow and be covered. People are not allowed to choose or think for themselves, instead they are taught what to think, how to feel, what to believe. My heart began to weep for these people, yet I wondered how do I even begin to reach them? They have been taught to close off and not speak. Many of them have been controlled into silence since childhood. They have been taught that surrendering to this fear is what brings them happiness. If so, then why are so many sad? Why then do so many of them depend on herbal supplements or medications for depression and anxiety? Why are “witchcraft cures” such a common occurrence? Why is sexual abuse so rampant and hidden in these cultures?

Could it be that this spirit of religion has given many people such a false sense of security that they have only learned to follow this spirit of fear instead of the true God of Heaven who fathers us and loves us with an everlasting love? Many of them preach and warn about the antichrist as if it were some person or figure that will rise up and challenge what they have taught. Could it be that the antichrist spirit they have warned so many people about is even now running rampant in their life and within many churches today, but is hidden. The definition of anti is strongly opposed to or against. And if religion is the ruling factor then it is anti to the working of God.

Many churches of today are in a deep sleep and fighting against their very Savior? Just as the Jews once fought their own Messiah and did not recognize Him even when He was right there under their very noses even though they read and memorized prophecies of their coming Messiah. What will it take to awaken the church of today?

Just after Pentecost, some of these Jews suddenly understood as Peter preached. They were pricked to their core as they realized that they had just ordered to have their Messiah crucified. They were terrified! Imagine! The One who came to save them, and they wanted Him dead!? (How the cries of “Crucify Him!” must have rung in their ears.) They must have thought that was the end for them, yet when they asked what to do Peter’s answer was short and to the point. Repent and be baptized, and receive the Holy Spirit. That was the answer. Repent, be forgiven, be baptized, receive the Holy Spirit. No long list of rules to restore favor with God. The work was already finished. Although they thought they had messed up the plan, God simply used their mess-ups to restore humanity to relationship with Himself. God Himself would be born into their hearts and His Spirit would direct them how to live. (See Acts 2)

To be continued… In Part 2, I will share part of my personal testimony and my tangle with religion…

I’d love to hear from you! Give me your feedback or share your story if you like. Comment below or email me at


Not Knowing, But Knowing

412930_323852540983030_1007922383_oAlright, so faith has definitely been on my mind this summer…. and finally, I got my noisy chunky keyboard set up for a late night writing rendezvous, and I decided to jot down the thoughts that have been dancing about in my brain. Maybe it’s because the camp I volunteered at this summer had Hebrews 11 “Walking by Faith” as their theme this year. Or maybe it was because I was reflecting on my past leaps of faith in light of some new leaps of faith. At any rate, it seemed God has been showing me a lot of things about faith in the past two years. Recently I sat down to read Hebrews 11 again. I just felt like there was something I was missing in that chapter. Okay, well actually I woke up one morning and simply could not sleep and as I rolled over, grunting about how early in the morning it was, I sensed God saying that there was something specific He wanted to show me. So after laying there thinking about it for a few moments and trying to get my eyes open. I got up, and sat on the front porch where I would (hopefully) stay awake, because the coffee wasn’t ready yet. And I opened my Bible and started to read, but I kept hearing Hebrews 11, which was not where my marker was set to, but I went there anyway. I started reading it quickly and spouting out the words like I usually do when I’ve heard something so many times it’s in my memory (bad habit), but I sensed the need to slow down. (Can you tell I need more patience?) So I slowed down and re-read that portion, but I was still sort of skimming through to find what it is that I’m missing, and that’s when it hit me. By “hit me” I mean a sentence bounced right off the page of my Bible and hit me in the forehead, well not literally, but that’s what it felt like. I didn’t have a mirror or anything, but I suspect my mouth probably dropped open as I re-read the verse and understanding began to dawn on my sleep deprived brain. “Oh! Wow! God what are you trying to tell me?” I gasped. My eyes began to scan the pages. I raced to the Old Testament, then back to Hebrews 11. I was amazed! How many times I had read the faith chapter, how many times I had paraphrased it, how many times I had mentioned or read over it, and how many times I had fussed inwardly (I’m just being real honest here!) about the people who stop in front of the conjunction in verse six (which is another subject in itself) and yet I had never stopped to consider this one little sentence that now stared at me and danced about in my brain and shook me to the very core of my rather faint heart. This phrase whispered hope, boldness, daring, and bravery right into the very depths of my soul.  The latter part of verse eight in the NLT reads “He went without knowing where he was going.” And I began to think… All these people did or went without knowing. And why? Why would someone go somewhere without knowing? Old fears began crowding into my brain. Fears of the unknown, fears of failure, fears of… but they stopped as God whispered. “They went not knowing, but knowing.” Wait what? My tired brain was finding this a little contradictory, but then I saw. They knew God. They went knowing God, His faithfulness, His love and His provision and with that knowledge they went, not knowing where, but knowing that God would take care of the not knowing part. Alright, so there were some who did doubt. Like Sarah who laughed, and I’m sure that all of them felt doubts along the way, but still they did and they went as God said and look where it got them! Okay, so I have always had some trust issues in my life. Trusting God was a journey for me, but thankfully God is a very patient Father who is very worthy of trust and fully understands every trust issue. So right there, in my non-coffee, bed headed, sleep deprived state of mind, I just bowed my head and thanked my Father that in all the current unknowns of my life, I could go forward knowing He is there and I just surrendered my life to going and doing. Going where? I don’t know! Doing what? I don’t know. Does anyone really know what tomorrow brings? Faith is an adventure, faith is not knowing, but knowing our Guide. For me that morning it was the realization that I need to just surrender to God to be used by Him in ways I don’t yet see and know. It was crushing the fear of the unknown and saying that in the name of Jesus I trust my future into the hands of a God who knows, who sees the whole picture and as such I will go where He leads me, do what He calls me to do in surrender to His will even when it doesn’t make sense to me, and with that was the absolute peace in knowing that God is with me and will go with me wherever He leads me. And so it is by faith that Jenni…

How will my faith story read one day? How will yours read one day? Serious thoughts for sure, and a learning adventure all the way! I just love it how God doesn’t get done showing us new things!

Credits: The photo was done by me when I was a teenager. Model: One of my younger brothers (they are so good at that!) I just thought those binoculars hiding his face were so cute. But please, let’s lay down the binoculars and go in faith! 🙂

Of Bubbles and Poetry

Poetry has never been my cup of tea! Just always thought poems and I weren’t meant to be! Don’t get me wrong I love reading them, it’s the writing part… Anyhow, so I always cringed just a tiny bit when I had to teach poetry…. And then with some curriculum changes at school I suddenly had to face the world of onomatopoeia, limericks, haiku, rhythm and ‎rhyme when both my fourth graders AND my third graders had a whole unit dedicated mostly to (yep) Poetry! By a unit, I mean 3 weeks of poetry! The primary goal was to instill an interest and enjoyment in poetry. Since I already enjoy reading poetry it wasn’t too hard to get excited about that part! I read poems every day in class, long poems, short poems, sad poems, happy poems, funny poems and more… Now I have a personal policy not to ask someone to do something I myself wouldn’t be willing to do. So as an added incentive I told my fourth graders that I would attempt to write a poem and read it to them once they hand in theirs. It was harder than I thought, but I finally figured something out by recording myself talking and trying to rhyme while driving to and from school. Finally, one afternoon, I had the vision for what I was trying to say and after some tapping, syllable counting and a bit of head banging, I wrote this poem on Bubbles to try to capture the mystery I felt when I blew bubbles as a little girl, and the amazement that I see in the eyes of children trying bubbles for the first time. I also wanted it to be a bit humorous to produce a few giggles. Lastly, we actually did talk about evaporation and our theories about bubbles so it kind of brought a scientific twist to it all.  Anyway, so it’s nothing great or fancy, but just a piece that says I finally managed to write a poem. I added some more to the poem for my third grade class when they handed in their poems. Oh, and all my students did a wonderful job! I may have shed a few tears in private when I read their poems!
  So without further ado here it is…
Out in the sunshine,
  Here I go,
All ready now
  Some bubbles to blow.
Just one little puff
  There go two
Dancing, Skipping,
  Red, yellow and blue.
Then I wonder, and deeply ponder,
  Just where do bubbles go when I blow, blow, blow?
No wings, yet they fly
  Colors bright
Swirling, twirling,
  Frolicking in light.
But where do they go?
  So curious!
Then a pip-pop!
  How mysterious!
Then I wonder, and deeply ponder,
  Just where do bubbles go when I blow, blow, blow?
Oh! that I could ride
  A bubble
Far, far away
  Such bubble trouble!
Maybe they go out
  Into space,
Or perhaps they
  Sit on the moon’s face.
Then I wonder, and deeply ponder,
  Just where do bubbles go when I blow, blow, blow?
Into my bubble
  Now I climb,
Up, Up, away-
  Rainbows all sublime!
Floating high, higher-
  There’s a tree!
Oh no! Blip, Blop!
  Bubble rides are not for me!
Yet I wonder, and deeply ponder,
  Just where do bubbles go when I blow, blow, blow?
                                                                                  -Jenni Yoder
P.S. Who says blowing bubbles are just for children? Go out there and blow some bubbles!

Life Is Not Fair

When I was quite young, I often wondered about God. Was He really a God of justice? If He was then why was life seemingly so unfair? The fact that some said He was good, kind and just was one little shred of hope, in a rather dark time of my young life. I didn’t particularly enjoy church, other than Sunday School, but I went because my parents took me, and it was just the thing my friends and I did every Sunday. Even when we traveled, we would go to church somewhere. I passed any time that wasn’t Sunday School daydreaming, drawing, and pulling earwax out of my ear, or my siblings ear and showing it to my Mom to see her horrified, but silent reaction. Sometimes, I took apart pens just to see how they worked and if I could put them back together again. Poor Mom! She got rather tired of trying to remove all the ink explosions from my clothes! Sometimes someone would tell us children a story right in the middle of the message, or a relative would ask what the message was about so I would keep my ears perked just in case. One day as I was doing my normal “survive the service” things, the preacher suddenly loudly exclaimed “LIFE IS NOT FAIR!!” I listened closely hoping that somehow he would explain this. That somehow I would get an answer to my questions about the unfairness of life and the justice of God. But the next words cut my heart to the core, so much that I never heard anything more. The next words were”And we just have to get over it!” Something inside my little mind snapped in that moment. What kind of a God would do this? An almost overwhelming rage filled my heart from that day on. I remember in the days and weeks after as I cried, hiding myself away from everyone so no one would see…looking at my red eyes in the mirror, trying to splash cold water on my face to hide the swollen eyes…telling myself that Life isn’t fair and I just had to get over it. The rage was almost impossible to contain. If there really was a God, how could His justice system be so twisted? Was there even any justice in this world? It never entered my mind to even ask an adult about this. I’m certain that if I had, I would have been assured otherwise, but I just assumed that any preacher would know, and any adult would confirm it. How could I believe in a God like this? If this was who God was, I was certain he hated me, and that I was worthless, but somehow, I was supposed to smile, be a good girl, do the right thing and just get over it. But how? That was what no one told me. For a long time I held on simply because I knew there had to be a better way somehow, and if there was no justice in this world, I vowed to myself that somehow, I would enforce justice for those smaller or weaker than I. This lead me to feel deeply about the smallest puppy, the weakest kittens and the most helpless creature, and in general anyone who was bullied or hurt by circumstances beyond their control. But often, I would also lash out in anger at anyone whom I felt somehow portrayed even the slightest cruelty, greed or discrimination, and I wept often. I would lay awake at night sometimes too afraid to move, worrying… wondering… You see, despite my anger at God, I thought I somehow had to please Him or He would send me for everlasting torment when I died. I tried figuring out what I did to displease Him. I was tormented by nightmares, my faith was increased a lot when I prayed that God would make them stop and my prayer was answered. I began to feel His love a little through those around me, but I was still very confused about it all. When I was in my teens, I once more heard the statement made across the pulpit… “Life is not fair!” Every fiber of my body tensed, ready to be crushed again, if this was who God was, I was done! But the next phrase completely took my breath away, and tears stung my eyes, as he continued with. “If life was fair, we would all be hanging from a cross.” I couldn’t fathom it right then and there. But in that moment, my perspective changed, a lot! After all, the bad things in life are a result of sin entering this world, and the punishment for sin is death. But God in His love paid that price for us. It doesn’t mean we will never experience any hardships. We will. Our enemy is constantly looking for a way to trip us up, to drag us back, to tell us we will never be worth anything. The enemy knows what Jesus did for us, and it makes him tremble. Sinful humanity has been redeemed by the death of a sinless Man. Truly, life is not fair, and I won’t be getting over it anytime soon!



“The Slop Pile Kitty”

Come with me to a rural farm area… In a time and place where there was a large population of feral cats… And before there were many, if any, programs for feral cat rescue in this area. I had many cats. We had plenty of place for them to roam about and I took in any stray that came along. We bought cat feed in bulk and had a sheltered feeding area for the cats. One day a kitten was found eating from the compost pile. Every day someone would come out and throw out bits of food scraps and other compostable items. (This was before we had a garbage disposal in our house.) This kitten was waiting every day and despite my coaxing would stay out of reach and the minute I left he would light into anything he could find as though his very life depended on it. His daily appearance at the slop pile brought on his nickname as “The Slop Pile Kitty”.  I felt sorry for the little ragamuffin and kept coaxing. In time he would come into a feeding cage and eat, but the minute I tried so much as to touch him he would either sink his super sharp claws into my arm or bolt.  Finally one day, I remember being able to stroke him for just a moment before he bolted, but I knew it was a start, and gradually I earned the trust of “The Slop Pile Kitty” From day one this cat was obviously wilder than any cat I had ever seen. He could fight, scratch, scream and snarl like no domestic cat I had ever seen which soon earned him the nickname of “The WildCat” amongst the family. Had he not been jet black with a bit of white I would have thought he was part bobcat.I am positive that, as was my habit with each cat, I probably gave this cat some name that was difficult to pronounce, and thereby his nicknames stuck. The interesting thing was that no matter how hard this cat fought and hated most people, who would allow me to pet him, but occasionally he would suddenly develop a wild streak and his razor like claws would gash into my arms. And I would sigh, as he ran off, then go in to clean my wounds. He would often disappear for a week or more into the woods and he would not be penned up, but after some time of scrounging for food, he would always come home. Unfortunately he began taking to his old habits more and more and even though there was always plenty of fresh water and food available for him at home, he still took to scrounging nearby dumpsters. You see “Slop Pile Kitty” didn’t understand that he didn’t need to stay “Slop Pile Kitty”. One Sunday morning I stepped on the porch as I often did to find him with a plastic meat container wrapped around his neck. He had gotten into trouble with his dumpster diving and where did he go to for help? Me, of course. So I removed it, petted him, loved him, made sure he knew that he had plenty of feed right here, but it didn’t take long until “Slop Pile Kitty” went back to the slop.

Today I thought of “my WildCat” and I suddenly saw the lesson…How many times do I like “The Slop Pile Kitty” forget that I have all the resources for life available from my Heavenly Father? I have been rescued from the “slop pile” and brought into the Kingdom. I’m a child of the King! How easy it is to listen to that lying voice of condemnation telling me I will never be more than  just a “slop pile cat”… But if I listen I can always hear the true voice of my Father calling to me to come feed at His table and to be loved by Him. As His child, nothing that happens to me changes my identity or can put me back into the slop pile unless I let it and choose to go back because the blood of Jesus has paid the price to bring me into the family. Isn’t that amazing!

Not a one of us was even ever created for a slop pile life. We were made in the image of God; sin brought about separation from God and the punishment for sin is death. All of that changed when Jesus came onto the scene and paid the ultimate price to buy us back and restore us to what God intended us for. And anyone in Christ becomes a new creation…God can’t stop loving us, even when we turn our backs or lash out at Him. He doesn’t cage us up and force us into submission, He lets us choose… The question is: “Will we be His Children?”

Remember Who you are and Whose you are because of Jesus!

Just a few of many Bible references… Genesis chapters 1-3, Galatians 3:23-29, Psalm 139, Acts 17:26-28, Matthew 10:29-31, 1 John 3, 1 John 4: 9-21, 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, Romans 8:15



“Hold My Hand”

 Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10

For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee. Isaiah 41:13

I experienced my first full day field trip… It was rainy and we had three stops and a little over 2 hours of driving. I had volunteers to help with child care. (thankfully!) We had 2-3 per volunteer which made my day much easier. I had three very excited, but somewhat nervous first graders with me. As we approached a large visitor center at a living museum they crowded in against me and grabbed for my hand. One little girl looked right up at me and said. “Ms. Jenni, I want to hold your hand because I feel safer when I hold your hand.” Several times when she got nervous she would again look at me and say “I just feel safer when you are holding my hand.” In that moment I felt very small…For all the big scary things in life that still would not be enough. No human can fully protect and comfort us in our fears and griefs.

Yet someday as she grows older, I hope she will put her hand into the hand of her Heavenly Father… The Hand that was broken for us… the hand that was nailed to the cross so we might live.. the hand that reaches down and lifts us from the depths of brokenness….the hand that never tires, and is always there.

What a beautiful reminder from a child. Will you reach out and let that hand hold you today? No matter your brokenness, no matter your fear, no matter what you have done. He is there and if you seek you will find all you ever needed or wanted there!



A Lesson From Sugar Cookies

I like for things to go smoothly… I like when things turn out symmetrical… I like order… I like knowing what will happen before it happens… I like knowing what is expected of me…I can handle clutter and chaos, but it frustrates me until I can get it back into its intended shape… I like things that are prepared and planned… Despite this, I hardly ever quite reach my own standard or expectations. That’s right! I let myself down. All the time. Sometimes I try my hand at a piece of artwork, but no matter who praises it or how good it actually looks, I can’t stand it because I see that tiny flaw in it, that little spot where my pen slipped, or my paint dripped, or that crooked line…and if it must be displayed I might avoid looking at the painful reminder of my imperfection…I also like challenges… assignments of total chaos with the sole purpose of bringing back order. I like the challenge of turning something around, bringing in a system an order. I like improvising, inventing and creating plans that lead to order…

I’m starting to learn that it’s okay to not be perfect… It’s okay to sometimes come racing in late to something. It’s okay that everything is not in a straight line, color coded or lined up by size. When I started teaching I realized that I would need to work to let go of my instincts of perfection to allow creativity to grow. I needed to learn to let the children be children. Allow them to experiment with their art projects, allow them to make mistakes in their lessons. How else will they learn? After all even I can’t live to the expectations I try to place myself under! Finally, if I waited to move ahead till everything was perfect I would never get very far…You see if it was either perfection or nothing, it didn’t take long for me to blow it! In my teens I had to break through that in order to be productive… and yes, those who worked closely with me in some of those days would probably tell you about that!

What does all this have to do with sugar cookies?

Close to Christmas I decided to have a cookie day at school. I found a recipe that worked well, I carefully made flood icing, and prepared decorations. Visions of happy little gingerbread men, candy canes, snowmen and stars danced through my mind. These cookies would be so perfect! The time came and we set out to rolling and and cutting. The children were having fun, but I was feeling ten kinds of frustration as they called me to come help here and there. We made lots of cookies that day. Gingerbread men with crooked smiles and some with no faces. (gasp!) Cookies that bore almost no resemblance to the ones in the picture. Yet, the children were so happy. They were quite pleased with what they had made. After the children left my co-teacher and I frosted the last ones… and even I couldn’t decorate those cookies nearly as perfectly as the picture in my mind. The children had a lot of fun with their cookies and the next day at the Christmas party they divided them carefully out to take home to their parents. Sometimes, if their was a dispute over one they all liked they would even (gasp!) break it and divide it among themselves.IMG_5000

As I mused over the day and tried to find a moment of calm I noticed the stunningly beautiful sunset. In that breathtaking moment it was as though my Father was giving me a message in a sunset… There were no symmetrical lines of color. The colors were splashed together… breathtaking… perfect in every way… not following a color scheme or pattern… but gorgeous nevertheless…

Maybe it is because we weren’t designed to fit a cookie cutter mold… In ten years from now, my students will hardly remember how those cookies looked, but they will remember how I made them feel. They will remember the fun we had together that day, not picture perfect cookies. Children see the beauty in simple things… and they have helped me find beauty… in the extraordinary, in the unique….And as for me, I’m learning to drop the mold I’ve tried to make myself fit into. There is a freedom in knowing that my Heavenly Father created me to fulfill His purpose, but He also equips me to fulfill that purpose. And even when things don’t go they way I envision them, there is beauty even in the chaos. There is peace and calm and assurance near to the heart of God. Letting go of the chain of perfection that I hang on to for security and finding my security in a Heavenly Father who will never let me down is freedom! It allows me to relentlessly pursue God without worrying about the bend in the road, or what people will think, and even in the middle of the chaos there is beauty if I look for it!

Disclaimer: If you think I’m some sort of neat freak, please don’t lest I need to show you pictures of my space to prove otherwise!






A Self Made God?


Some time ago, I had an interesting conversation with a young woman. As I listened to her explain her theology, I was struck with some interesting thoughts… After she left, I was still mulling over what we had just discussed… I grabbed a pen and started writing, than slipped the paper off in a forgotten corner. What exactly we talked about that day, I don’t remember. The idea though, never left, and it has since become a challenge to me…

These are the thoughts that I was challenged by…

…because we live in a world of man made rules and man made theology… because we can serve a god that we created… the god made in our image instead of the God who made us in His image. Maybe we feel too fearful? Fearful of saying “Speak to me Lord.” Maybe we are governed by a hand mightier than ours. A plan we can’t understand. So we fight. Fight to gain control as our own self made god crumbles. Our self made god lets us down too often, but this allows us to believe another lie. The lie that our problems are “her” fault, “his” fault, “their fault” And this self made god prunes its feathers and struts about trying to find another person to blame for the things it cannot control…

…maybe it’s time we look closely into the Word, find the Truth that sets us free, and the heart of the true God. The God who loves us, and fights for us! We are not fighting flesh and blood, but principalities, powers and the rulers of darkness. It’s time we claim the promises…that when we seek with all our hearts we will find. And when we find Jesus who is the Way the Truth and the Light, we will find freedom! A freedom we will not have in this self made god.




(image used from google images)

Of Blog Posts (or lack thereof) And Other News

As you can well see, blog posts have not been happening routinely on my blog. It’s not that I’m out of material to post. Trust me on this! I have more that I could post now then I have ever had before. I’m still in the process of mentally sorting everything that has transpired in this year.

This has been a year of many changes for me… A lot of this first started in the summer of 2014 when I walked into my home church and saw a registration packet for a Bible School laying by the magazine racks… As I looked at it, I was filled with a combination of thoughts and feelings… I always sort of wanted to, but it had never worked out… now was my chance… but I was now 21. Not 18… And yet it was the clearest decision to me… GO! And so I never worried too much that it wouldn’t work out, even when I was on the waiting list for a while. Early this year I went. Little did I know it was the start of something new… This year has been a journey. It has been a search. A search for answers, a search for truth and a search for something I couldn’t quite seem to grasp. God has promised that when we seek, we will find. Find I did, exhausted from searching… I found freedom in surrender at the foot of the cross.

In late June through the first of July, I began to sense that God was leading me in a different direction in career. Well, strike that thought. I had received multiple nudges when I heard of a need in my local community, People had told me straight to my face, a dear friend once emailed me inquiring of the need…. It wasn’t that I had never given it a thought… I just applied myself more diligently to praying for the person that would fill that need. In late June, just after some deep soul searching, I got into a mild argument with someone in which it was mentioned ONCE more. I immediately shrugged the thought, but a few hours later it hit me and it hit hard! I rolled around trying to sleep, but couldn’t. I knew. Somehow, I knew that it was meant to be. But why? Why me? Could I really consider?  I let the board know I would consider the position. (In this situation, you simply apply and then wait for a formal request, and there is nothing official until you get the request.) Before I could chicken out, I wrote my resignation letter to the company I was with. I was here that I had as close to a dream job as I could have imagined at the time. I didn’t wait to write the letter based on whether or not I would get the next position. I just knew it was time to move into a new calling… It went beyond my own logical reasoning. It was a peace filled decision despite the uncertainty. I can’t honestly say that I never looked back. In fact I so nearly chickened out, but a very unique thing happened. You see when I typed up my resignation letter, I was quite certain, and brimming with faith. When I began considering actually handing it in, I began to second guess the timing… Well, one thing was sure… I needed to edit it… (Grammar is not my high point!) So I emailed it to myself… and went to the desktop in the home office to reword, edit and think about when or even if I should make this official… When it just didn’t arrive, I re-checked my phone only to realize that I had mistakenly sent it to the wrong address. The secret was out! So no trying to wait, second guess or doubt. It would only be a matter of time before the company would see it, unless I rushed in and deleted it somehow. So that was it. The very next day I handed in my notice. In a few weeks I would be jobless…I knew I would get the official call, even though the odds seemed to stack up against me… I was living off faith… It was not easy… Six days later I got the call… I was the eleventh person to receive the call, asking if I would consider the position of teaching at our private church school… I had been praying for the person that would fill that role… and now it would be me. I had my answer ready. Now that it was official, it should be much easier, right? No. Two weeks later I got an email with an offer I had once considered. Something I often dreamed of… It was too good to be true, but here it was at my finger tips and I had already committed to teaching. Yet, it was not this dream position that I had so clearly sensed the call to… and so I replied saying I was already committed elsewhere. I trust the Lord will lead me where He needs me. Right now it is in a private day school with some precious elementary students! 🙂



Coming Soon: A self-made god?


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