June Update

These past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I woke up one morning and noticed a text from a friend saying that I should apply to a community health RN position posted on Rush University Medical Center's website. I didn't hesitate and ended up applying that morning. Fast forward the next week and I found myself in communication with Anthony Mask, the director of faculty practice. He set me up with a formal interview with the dean, which I went on to have a few days ago. One thing lead to another, and she informally offered me an opportunity to be a part of a team that would go out to various communities that don't have access to care and provide COVID-19 education and testing, give or take 6-12 months. She asked me to take a few days to think about it, especially because the position itself would be unlike other positions due to its novelty. She also told me that I would transition to other opportunities within Rush once the teams were no longer needed and the pandemic waned.

As I was spending time with the Lord the other day, I knew that I would accept the offer and email Dr. Moss and Anthony back. Throughout my conversations with both of them, I felt so much peace and got this sense that the Lord was opening a door for me to step through. And as I sat in the moment, I started to cry because to accept would mean that I would be ending my time at Philz Coffee and Sugar Beet Food Co-op. More than anything, the tears were catalyzed by this burden on my heart for the friendships I have made through both of these jobs, and the realization that I would no longer see my co-worker friends on a day-to-day basis. That I would no longer be able to pursue them and love on them. Ok, so I'm being a bit dramatic because obviously I can still maintain these friendships. Still, a part of me is reminded of how much I want the people around me to experience the love of the Lord. To experience the freedom of his love and the fullness of it. A part of me is reminded that I am not their Savior, and that the Lord will continue to pursue them, even after I step out and move on to different opportunities. Still, my heart stung and I sat there weeping like a baby.

Once again, the Lord asks me to lay down everything at the altar: complacency, the delusion that I am in control of my life and future, fear that he hasn't already equipped me for the job up ahead, friendships that are ultimately gifts from him. And once again, I move forward with my palms open.