...and I got it! I've been accepted as an intern to WordAction Press in Kansas City, Missouri!
Now keep in mind that, for a word nerd like me who wanted to work in a Christian industry, this is Mecca. For so long, I've felt torn between jobs that I want and jobs that I can get, but this is the bridge between what I love and what pays. This is the job I've wanted for so long but I was at a loss, because I was too shy (or lacking faith?) to just go for it. I've tried so many other venues - teaching, journalism, writing - but nothing fit, and I couldn't explain why I felt so uncomfortable in my own skin in these jobs. There was no motivation to apply to anything, no direction for any job.
But this one was different. As I flipped through a flyer from NPH advertising for interns, my heart began to race - "I could do this... I could actually do this!" As surely as the sun rises each morning, I felt God's certainty descend on me that this was the Yellow Brick Road of directions. There have been a handful of these God-given certainties before now, and they have always been followed by huge blessings and deeply challenging times. And when I've doubted the certainty and chosen not to take the risk, I've felt a sense of God's sadness, as if I've chosen not to explore his blessing on my life and that I've missed out.
Moving cross-country for a two-month-long internship is a very expensive risk. No job is guaranteed after the internship, and the intern must supply food, transportation, housing, etc, while working for minimum wage - or for free - in an unfamiliar area. I have no money, since I've funneled my paycheck into paying school loans for the past four years, which means that I have no savings, no car, no resources to do anything other than live with my parents and pay off my school loans.
I've used all of this as an excuse to stay in my happy little Pennsylvania comfort zone, ignoring my own obvious hypocrisy while I encourage others to break out of their narrow experiences. And what better way for God to convert this hypocrite than to draw me to a mirror and show that the comfort-zone-loving person is none other than myself? Yikes. A little embarrassment there, not to mention a lesson in humility. How dare I doubt the certainty that God had placed on my heart about the NPH internship? How could I possibly feel justified in not applying if I knew that God would take care of my needs if I got accepted?
The day NPH called me and I accepted the position, I was flat broke. After I hung up the phone (and hollered in sheer triumph for a minute or two...or five...), I sat at my desk and dropped my head between my knees, fervently thanking God for giving me this opportunity, and for a way out of cleaning houses and dogsitting for another summer. And then the panic set in - how in the world was I supposed to come up with hundreds of dollars for gas money, tolls, a hotel, meals and my first month's rent? Though I had a full time job all throughout college, I only took home $15 each week. It would be at least two weeks after I started at the Publishing House before my first paycheck there, and there was no way I could come up with that money between now and then. I didn't even have anywhere to live.
Everything before now has been all well and good, but here is the part you'll want to read:
Two days after NPH called, someone dropped off an envelope for me at my office. Inside was $200 cash, and an anonymous letter reading, "God's money is for his people to do his work." Two hundred dollars is the exact amount of gas money I needed, and I hadn't told anyone that yet.
But I still needed somewhere to stay, somewhere cheap, with a non-psychotic family, and that family would want me to pay rent - which I couldn't afford. Again, the panic, again the prayer. What I really needed was to live somewhere for free, but I understood that just wouldn't happen - except by a miracle.
Fast forward two weeks - the day before I graduated, a woman from NPH called me. She and her husband (a youth pastor) were also ENC grads and were willing to open their house to me if I was willing. They knew my boyfriend and we had several friends in common, and in talking to her, I felt another sense of certainty and peace. And then she said it, the words which made my heart drop and nearly brought me to tears - "My husband and I consider it a ministry to open our house to people who need it. We've never charged anyone to live here, and we certainly would not start charging with you."
There you have it, ladies and gents. In plain black and white, you have the concrete, very real story of faith given, faith rewarded, of grace given and grace received. I may not be eloquent, I stutter and ramble, and sometimes get lost in over-thinking and worrying, but I will never again doubt. Here, in plain black and white (technically the computer pixels are a rainbow of colors but we won't get into that now), you have the story of Philippians 4:19 come to life.
"And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ Jesus."
Amen.
(And shame on you if you didn't recognize the title of this blog as a Beatles' song!)
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