(For those of you who already got the whole scoop about my latest trip to Tallahassee, you may want to skip down to paragraph three. Otherwise, let's start at the very beginning... a very good place to start, or so I hear.)
A couple Mondays ago, I got a text from a friend and former classmate at FSU, out of the blue, asking for my email address. I sent it to her, and she responded with, "Check your email ASAP." Ashley and I both graduated from FSU with degrees in computer criminology - she went on to take a job with the FDLE, and I went on to... well... I'm still figuring that out. The email? A forward from the Forensic Services Director notifying FDLE employees that a position was opening up and asking for any leads to a potential candidate for the position. Above the forward, Ashley noted: "If you would like information on this open position, please let me know!" My response was something along the lines of, "Yes, please - I mean, it couldn't hurt anything." That Tuesday, I received an email from the Director, asking for my resume. I spent that evening updating and proofing it, then sent it in late that night. A few days past, then much to my surprise upon leaving work that Friday, I had a voice message on my phone from an anonymous number: "This is the Director of Forensics at FDLE. I've gone over your resume, and I'd like to meet you - can you come in Monday morning, or sometime early next week for an interview? Call me back."
Phone calls and arrangements were made - I would leave for Tallahassee the following Monday evening after work. I had an interview scheduled for that Tuesday morning with the FDLE. Even better, on my way to work that Monday morning, I called the pastor of a church in Tallahassee that was looking for a youth pastor. I had been prayerfully considering applying for that position for about a month at that point, and over the weekend, I had (finally) completed my philosophy of youth ministry. Doors were opening, and the timing seemed right. I informed the pastor that I was interested in his job posting, that I would already be in town for another interview, and that I would love to stop by and meet with him and give him my resume and PoYM in person, if he was interested. He said, "Certainly. Come on by whenever your other interview is over." Everything was falling into place so perfectly.
The trip to Tallahassee, though short-notice, was much needed and could not have been more perfect. Though I could not see everyone I would've liked to with such little time, I at least got to spend time with a handful of close and dearly missed friends. (I also got to visit two out of three of my favorite Tallahassee coffee shops!) And to top it all off, the interviews went really well! I left the interview with FDLE very hopeful (and with good cause - the Director and I really seemed to hit it off), and though the interview with the pastor left me a bit more doubtful that things would "work out," I at least had a foot in the door (and I certainly did not lose any points with him by coming by).
But that Wednesday afternoon, I had a conversation with a friend that would change things. Why? I cannot even begin to tell you. But as she began to share with me something completely unrelated to my moving back to Tallahassee, a deep unsettling came over me. I drove home that evening, confused. I spent some time talking with God about it during the drive (five hours, after all, is plenty of time for such a conversation). I asked God for a clear answer either way, but the confusion remained; so did the unsettled feeling.
This past monday (not even a week after the first interview), I found another voice message on my phone upon leaving work: "This is the Director of Forensics at the FDLE again. Please call me back at your earliest convenience." After a couple rounds of phone tag, we finally connected Wednesday night. Any time an interview-related conversation begins with "Thank you so much for blah, blah, blah... but unfortunately...," it's fairly safe to assume the worst. However, the worst was actually the best, this time.
No, I did not get the position - but I did get a pretty clear answer from God - No, not right now - just like I had asked for. No, I didn't get the position - but I got the most encouraging rejection anyone could ever hope for (if such a thing exists). The Director told me that, out of all the people she interviewed, she wanted me. I was the name she gave to human resources for the position; HR told her, "We don't think she has enough experience." No, I didn't get the job - but the Director said that she didn't want to tell me in a voicemail because she wanted to get my permission to send me a form to fill out and file with HR that will better my chances the next time around, and told me, "Maybe in the future another position will open up that you're interested in, and if the opportunity comes again, I would love to work with you down the road." Not a bad way to get turned down.
While there is still a chance that the other position - youth ministry - could work out (and honestly, that was the one I was really rooting for in the end), the time-frame is unknown. I could hear back from them tomorrow... or I could hear back from them in six months to a year (I'm banking on the latter, ha). If and when I do, I am sure that answer will be just as clear, one way or another. Either way, for now, I'm not moving, and strangely enough, I have peace in that.
Don't get me wrong, I miss Tallahassee - the places, but mostly the people. And I loved the thought of going back - getting to be more involved with some of my "old" Tallahassee youth again and diving into the countless ministry opportunities up there. But I have youth here in Palm Bay too that I've grown to love and, much to my dismay sometimes, several of them have grown to love me back. And there are tons of ministry opportunities - genuine needs - here right now. Many that I've chosen to ignore because, quite honestly, I don't want to be here.
I don't know if Melbourne/Palm Bay is where I'm supposed to be either long-term, but I do know this: I'm not ignoring those opportunities anymore. So long as I am here, I'm here.
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