6 months. I spent 6 months applying to internships. SIX MONTHS! I treated it like a full time job. I spent on average an hour to three hours a day researching, applying, tweaking my resume, tweaking my cover letter, updating my portfolio. Hours upon hours of applying only to get rejection emails-- if an email came at all. Faster than I'd been able to get the applications, inquiries, and emails out I was getting rejections. Six months. Six months I was diligent. I was pushing. As a girl who had no connections to the world she was trying to enter, I worked hard. I left no stone unturned. If it was available, I had applied to it.
Fast forward six months, here I am at home. Nothing to show for the previous six months other than failed interviews, lost time, and an email folder full of rejection letters. One night, I'd had it and poor Momma got to weather the Hurricane of Feels that came sweeping in. I broke. All the hours, all the effort, all the dreams that were slipping through my fingers came rushing out in streams stronger than the mouth of the Mississippi. How had I walked away with no internship? How am I going to be a senior in college and not have any design experience. How am I supposed to get a job?
"Don't quit." Two words. Words which slid of Momma's tongue in a way that made you believe maybe you did have an ounce of perseverance left. With frustration on one shoulder and defeat on the other, I let the storm pass and then recollected my marbles and decided that I'd figure out something to do -- even if it wasn't a big internship in the city.
One week. One week after the Hurricane of Feels I had an offer. With a faster turn around than the Earnhardt pit crew, I'd gone from totally doomed in my career path to a full-time PAID design internship in NYC. My, how God moves. I worked and worked for 6 months. I learned perseverance. I learned dedication. I learned how to challenge myself and think out of the box. Then, in one week from application to offer, I was hired.
It's funny because NYC was always the dream. This was where I wanted to be. This was where my life was going to be. However, one night while riding the ferry home after a long day, I realized that this isn't where I necessarily want to be. See in all of God's graciousness, he has allowed me to live in the city of my dreams. He has allowed me to understand what life is here, and frankly I don't think I want it.
I miss the water. I miss being able to escape. I miss the fresh air. I'm thankful for my time here. I am thankful that I will be able to say I did it! I lived here! But, if or when the Lord calls me elsewhere, I will willingly go. Because this summer the Lord has shown me that he knows me better than I claim to know myself. He knows that this city is not where I would be my happiest. He knows I need water, and space. He knows I need to be able to escape to the mountains, or stand in his forests and remind myself how GREAT my God is! Work is fantastic! And I could NOT have gotten a better job! It is by far my favorite thing about the city, and it already makes me sad to think I have to leave in a month. But work can't be my life. People are my life. Time with them are my life. Experiences and adventures with the people I love THAT is what my life is.
God knew. He gave me the greatest job while he showed me a glimpse of my plan. A plan that I thought was thought out and perfect, yet held gaping holes not even reparable by patches.
God's plan. God's time. You call, Lord. I'll go.
#WifeMe
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