The last year or so has felt like dating a series of Mr. Not Rights. For the first time in my life, I found myself playing the part of cold-hearted breaker-upper. I also quit my first real job and moved away from the city where are all my dearest friends live and love.
I’ve had to say ‘no’ a lot in hopes that something better looms around the corner. I’ve had to learn to trust that God is leading me exactly where I should be going; that even now I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
In the midst of saying no to the old, I’ve been scared to be excited about the new in fear that I’ll just have to say no to this new love, too. I’ve been both scared to care and scared that I will never care again.
I’ve shared more than my fair share of questions and pain and doubt here on this blog. I am truly thankful for your listening ear.
Today, after months of feeling a numbness, a dullness, I can’t explain, I want to tell a new story, a different story. A story of budding joy.
Just a couple of weeks ago I discovered a really cool sounding organization called SERES here in Guatemala. They’re all about empowering local youth and leaders to care for their environment and inspire creative change within their communities. And they just so happened to be looking for someone with skills in non profit communications and a lot time on their hands.
I met the founder and one of the board members earlier this week when I applied for their Marketing and Communications Fellowship, and was thoroughly impressed. They were so welcoming, so passionate, so alive with joy in their work. The kind of joy that beckons you in. That beckoned me in.
I literally skipped back to my house after the interview.
I was offered the position of Fellow (fancy name for an internship) yesterday and all I know is that I haven’t been this excited or engaged in a really long time.
My heart soars at the idea of being a part of a team again and working for a cause I believe in. I’m excited to use my skills and talents and who I am at this exact moment in my life to serve others. I’m shocked to discover that I’m actually looking forward to working (in a real office, more than just a handful of hours a week) again. I’m excited to be a part of an organization here in Guatemala. I’m excited to learn and grow and invest in the work of SERES.
I’m excited to be excited again.
I won’t start until February. And of course I don’t really know what this commitment will entail or how it will all play out, but something feels different about this. I can’t explain why, but I believe I’ve been given the opportunity to engage in restorative work, work that may provide more healing than my restless resting.
For now, I’m excited to be excited.