I was certain three weeks ago that it was a no-brainer . . . that of course I would try again for this opportunity that seemed like it was custom-made for me, and that solved the “what am I going to be when I grow up?” problem so nicely . . .
but today I am trying to sit with this strange, unsettling sense of certainty about this . . . in Christianese, we would say “I have a peace about it” or “I can feel in my spirit that this is the right decision” . . . both sound so cliched to me, but I can’t deny that they accurately capture what I’m feeling.
I might as well not be cryptic about it. I realized tonight that I am not going to re-apply for the NYCTF . . . at least not right now. As much as I am convinced that I am still just short of “something else”, that “next thing” in my life, whatever it is that I was created to do . . . I am equally convinced right now that this thing is NOT “it”.
I really don’t think I’m afraid of failing . . . in reality, I know that if I applied again, and got an interview, that I would make it this time. Maybe it’s true that I am afraid of succeeding . . . but it just doesn’t feel like that’s what this is. that elusive “something else” is still out there, but I am suddenly struck by this profound conviction that this thing is not it, and that although I am certain of the need to change some of my immediate circumstances (PLEASE, GOD!), that there is still work that I need to do here . . . and that my beloved hometown will have to wait.
I hope that I can trust my gut on this . . . I was so certain that I would at least apply, and today it just hit me like a heavily sedated ton of bricks (awful metaphor, I know, but my point is that it is the calm of it, the lack of emotion, the certainty that I am NOT to do this that has taken me so thoroughly by surprise) that I am NOT going to apply.
For those of you who are Jesus followers, I do welcome your prayers for confirmation/clarity/discernment as I wrestle with this. At times like this, it’s hard to shake off the sense that God is merely “stringing me along” . . .