Do I trust God?

I like to think that I had the perfect job for me this year.

(I should probably put something about how being a mom is actually the perfect job, but I kind of sit in the boat that says - I do a little bit better at staying home with my kids when I go work somewhere else for a couple days. - Gasp in horror and call me a rebel if you need. Maybe you won't think I'm so evil if I tell you that I worked three days a week this year and would much prefer to only work two.)

I love working in a high school, I love the students, I love the things they're learning, I love the environment, and I love the role of the SLP in a high school. I rarely ever had that sinking feeling of dread about the day when walking into work. I'm sure it helped that one day a week I got to work with Kyla. 

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To say I was a little torqued when I found out I don't get to go back to my perfect job for me would be an understatement. Usually when educators get to the last few months of the school year, they start counting down the days until summer with extreme eagerness. When I saw how many days were left it just made me want to cry. Yesterday was my last day and I started getting all teary eyed in the parking lot before I even got out of my car. (Thankfully I got a grip for the rest of the day and didn't lose it until Elliana said good bye to a little friend at daycare.) I am so sad that I won't get to stay with my students and see them graduate, and since I really love this job I'm almost dreading working with elementary students next year. If you're reading this and you're my employer, don't worry, I'll eventually get over it.

I've been a bit mad at God over it all. Why shouldn't I get to stay at a job that I think is perfect for me? In the book I last finished, The Same Kind Of Different As Me, which is essentially a very interesting and moving autobiography of two people, one of those two people writes this:

There's somethin I learned when I was homeless: Our limitation is God's opportunity. When you get all the way to the end of your rope and there ain't nothin you can do, that's when God takes over. I remember one time I was hunkered down in the hobo jungle with some folks. We was talkin 'bout life, and this fella was talkin, said, "People think they're in control, but they ain't. The truth is that which must befall thee must befall thee. And that which must pass thee by must past thee by." (169)

Does it make sense to say my life is not my own? Do I really think that I want to be in control of my own life? My mom and I were talking about something that worries us, and she said she just has to ask herself, "Do I trust God?"   So I think it completely stinks that I have to leave the job that I think is perfect for me, but I've had to ask myself, "Do I trust God?" Really, trusting Him on the issue is really my best option because being angry about it just makes this ugly pit of discouragement fill me up.

I'm not in control of the plan for my life, but I'm trusting God to have a plan for me that far surpasses what I would get out of staying at my perfect job (and crying every now and then because I'm sad it's not the plan  I wanted).