Jumping off the Cliff

Yesterday, I walked to the post office and mailed envelopes with a letter and my minister profile to churches–all different, none I have ever been to before, some long-shots, some a bit more possible. It was one of the most frightening things I have ever done. I prayed as briefly as was comely over the envelopes before handing them over the guy at the post office counter. And then I left the post office and tried not to throw up (although, the nausea could have another explanation…).

After weeks of writing the profile, revising it, revising again, agonizing over what could possibly be read into any sentence or check mark, revising again; after an exhausting morning of forcing myself to write cover letters; after all of that crafting and revising, I now have no control over what happens to those packets of paper. Somewhere, at churches I’ve never seen, people I’ve never met are ripping open my envelopes, making copies for a committee, getting ready to dismiss or discuss, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Except trust. People around me keep reminding me to trust, using various versions of the line, “God has a spot for you.” For some reason, I have long equated the line in Psalm 55, “cast your cares upon the Lord” with the line from Ecclesiastes 11, “cast your bread upon the waters.” So, as I try to trust, I keep envisioning my envelopes as pieces of bread that are floating away from me on the water. I’ve sent them out, and now God gets to take care of them.

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