My Someplace Else

My newly-framed teaching certificate mocks me from the wall. The steadily growing stack of rejection letters joins in on the taunting. Slipping my alma mater letter opener into yet another white envelope, I read:

“Thank you for your application, we regret to inform you…”

Sighing, I add this one to the top of the pile. I gaze out my window and watch the breeze rough up the leaves on the birch tree.

With each letter, each “not at this time” interview, and each cattle-call job fair of four hundred aspiring teachers and only two positions available, my dream of teaching slips through my weary of praying hands.

Dust collects on my laminated classroom expectations chart as it waits to be hung in a new classroom.

My fists pound on brick walls and my feet run headlong into closed doors. In a desperate moment, I apply to a school where none of my colleagues dare apply for fear of their safety and a salary lower than a fast-food burger flipper.

Those of us with fresh memories of caps still in the air, are rapidly discovering there are more teachers rushing out of university doors than jobs to be had.

On one summer-slipping-away day, I stood in a winding, snake-like line at a career fair for teachers. Rounding one of the bends, my mouth drops when my retired elementary music teacher follows the crowd, waiting to be interviewed for a coveted spot. I knew my chances of landing a teaching position was as likely as me landing a role on Gilmore Girls.

Calendar pages on my wall flip, little square boxes are crossed off with an X, sad little pen in hand.

Walking in the Wilderness

Day after day, week after week, I wait in the wilderness. I sit and stare out the window. Sit and wait in the stillness, in the silence.

College friends pass me by, leaving me in their dust. One by one they move away, move on without me. New jobs, new states, new marital status. Bridesmaid dresses take up space in my tiny closet. Eraser marks smudge my address book, trying to keep it updated.

Where is the Lord? Why is he not answering my plea to teach? Why am I not good enough?

One restless, rumpled-sheet night, I cry out to the Lord.

“Lord, why am I here? What did you create me for, if not to teach? Why did you put me on this Earth?”

Flinging my covers off, a calming, commanding voice speaks into the night:

Resident Director

“Say what?”

Resident Director

My mind spins. Resident Director. The thought of being a Resident Director had never crossed my mind before. Humm…

“What are you up to, Lord?”

I was a Resident Assistant for two years in college.

And I do love planning events.

Leading small groups.

Building and fostering relationships.

Creating fun and cozy atmospheres.

“Can I really do this, Lord? “

My heart flutters with joy for the first time since graduation.

Promises of hope and a future.

Huh. I plop back down onto my daybed.

“Nice one, Lord. Okay. I will be faithful in this, if this is what you have called me to do.”

Twelve cover letters with resumes stuffed in large envelopes sit on my living room carpet. I spread out each opportunity and walk and pray over each one. All new possibilities, gently gathered into my arms, dash off to the local post office. Twelve orange envelopes will go out today.

“Okay Lord, here it goes. I have nothing to lose.”

A phone call and then another. Phone calls ring in from Michigan. Tennessee. Kansas. Kansas? C’mon California!

As interview requests come in back-to-back, I make a list of everywhere I applied.

Kansas on the bottom. Last on my list. In fact, I cross it off. A line straight through it. Kansas? Never! I draw a little tornado next to it on my paper. Nope.

Making a Way

When we find ourselves walking circles in the wilderness, we need to remind ourselves to talk to Him. Remind ourselves to walk with Him. To trust Him through the smoke.

My prayer to land a teaching job went unanswered.

We may never know why our prayers go unanswered. At least, answered in the way we want.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)

When Prayers go Unanswered

He answered my desperate prayer in a way my small brain could have never expected or imagined.

Nineteen years ago, I packed up a Penske truck and moved to not even an option Kansas.

Seventeen years ago, I said yes to marrying a farmer.

Nine (and ½) years ago, we were blessed with a son.

When I said yes to His plan, His answer, He traded lesson plans and gum under the desk for Bible Studies and Pick-a-Date. He traded Roommate Pumpkin Carving Contests and Tea party Tuesdays for race cars and basketball games. He traded lakes, beaches and trees for flat farmland, green tractors, and sunsets.

Through Him, I am finding joy in my someplace else, a place I never expected or imagined to be, but the place He had for me, His answer to my unanswered prayer.

You can find Andrea online at AndreaDSchmidt.com.