In the Beginning

     It was Pentecost weekend, 2021, Panama City, Florida.  It was a Friday night, and we were throwing a Pentecost party at our house.  I was pregnant with our 4th child, another sweet baby girl, and was frantically trying to make a cake and clean my house for the party as our 3 young children simultaneously wrecked it.  In the midst of my scurrying, my husband came up to me, phone in hand, to show me an email he had received that day.  Glancing at it, I saw that it was an invitation to interview all the way up in Atlanta for a job that he had applied to over a year ago.  A job that was his dream job, but that we had thought was just that…a dream, something that would never actually happen for our ordinary little family. A job that involved our family moving to new countries all over the world every 2 years while Don worked at embassies.  A job that I had completely forgotten even existed, and for which interviews are only granted to the very highest qualifying candidates.  To get offered one was a HUGE deal.  “We still want to do this?” Don asked, a grin on his face. As my brain tried to process what this meant, our 6 year old came running into the house full tilt, promptly slipped on my freshly mopped floor, slammed his head on the tile, and of course started screaming.  “I can’t even think about this right now” I called to my husband as I ran off to deal with the new crisis and finish prepping for the party.  Still, as I sipped wine, sat around a bonfire, and chatted with our friends and local priests that night, this news kept flashing back into the forefront of my mind.  Could this really be happening?  Did he really have a shot at this once in a lifetime job?  Were we still interested in doing this? I mean, when he had applied over a year ago, we had not been expecting another child. Circumstances had changed. And the most important question of all, was this God’s will for our family? Though it was all we could think about that night, we didn’t say a word about it to any of our friends then, or for the next 2 months.

     After everyone left, I got more information from my husband.  He had to either accept or reject the interview offer by that Tuesday, knowing that if he DID pass the interview, they would give him a conditional job offer on the spot.  In other words, we had 3 days to decide if this was really the life we wanted to live, if it was the life GOD wanted us to live.  I couldn’t help but be in awe a bit that we had to make this decision over Pentecost weekend, of all times.  Pentecost is when we celebrate the Holy Spirit descending upon the apostles following Jesus’ ascension into Heaven.  Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to the apostles, and now to the rest of the members of his church, to be their helper, comforter, and guide. “And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever.’ (John 14:16).  One of the many roles of the Holy Spirit is to guide us throughout our life, to help us to discern what is of God and what is not.  As the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC, 1994) teaches “The Spirit prepares men and goes out to them with his grace, in order to draw them to Christ.” (para. 737)  And so Don and I prayed to the Holy Spirit that weekend, prayed that he would be our counselor, our guide, to help us discern whether this new job opportunity would draw us (and others) to Christ. 

     Of course, this job was teeming with excitement and adventure!  Who wouldn’t say yes to a life of traveling THE WORLD??  But as we researched it, fear and anxiety began to rear their ugly heads in my mind.  Don would have to go through many months of training, hundreds of miles away from me and the kids.  If we said yes, I would be saying yes to being a single mom of 4 small children for over half a year.  Then there was the complete loss of control over where we lived.  After training, we would be sent to a major U.S. city for 2 years, but we would not get to choose where.  Were we okay with raising a young family somewhere like New York City?  And sure, we could grit our teeth and bear NYC for a couple years, but what if after that we got sent to a country we desperately did NOT want to go to?   Were we giving up a wonderful life in Florida, with beautiful sunshine, beaches, and an amazing Catholic community, for NYC and Siberia?  I ventured down the rabbit hole of reading blogs of wives whose husbands held this job.  One mother of 4 told stories that made my heart pound…like driving around a big city in the Middle East, desperately searching for an ER for one of her children, her husband unreachable by phone.  Or being medevac-ed out of southeast Asia for a medical emergency after they had only been there 12 days.  Some countries we could be sent to are just downright dangerous (like Sudan, where the employees had to be evacuated by military helicopter in the middle of the night as recently as this year!) From frequent power outages to tarantula infestations, there seemed to be no end to the difficulties we may experience in this lifestyle. Apparently this life was not for the faint of heart, and I was afraid my heart was much too faint! 

    But as I tabulated the pros and cons, the reasons for and against Don pursuing this job, I realized one key theme kept playing out in my thoughts.  ALL of my reasons for Don NOT pursuing this job—they were all based on fear.  Fear of the unknown, fear of loss of control, fear of being uncomfortable, fear of suffering, fear of losing friendships, fear of being alone, fear of a life lived in uncertainty.  Did I really believe that all God wanted for me was that I have a comfortable, easy life?  Did not each and every one of the great saints face incomprehensible suffering at some point in their lives?  Had I learned nothing from the hurricane? (more on this later). My life was not then, is not now, and never will be MINE.  I am not the one in control.  I could choose to stay in my “safe” Panama City, where I could easily delude myself into thinking I was in control of where I lived, who I spent my time with, etc.  But it would always be an illusion of control; as the hurricane in 2018 had taught me, life can be turned upside down in a matter of hours, no matter how in “control” you think you are.  The only way to find true peace is to stop trying to take control, stop grasping for the fruit of the tree.  The only way to find true peace is GIVING up of the control, in placing every aspect of my life, my future, into our Father’s loving hands. 

     This does not mean there would not be suffering ahead for us.  Did not seven swords pierce the heart of Mary, the mother of Jesus, after SHE said yes to God’s will?  Having my own son, sometimes I pause and think, just for a moment, what it would be like to stare up at my own son, nailed on a cross, dying slowly and in excruciating pain as I watched.  I can only think on it a moment, because even the mere thought itself is too painful.  Yes, indeed, Mary suffered.  More than any of us will ever truly understand.  But oh, through her suffering, the greatest GOOD that has ever befallen mankind was brought about!  Because Mary chose to follow the Father’s will, suffering and all, we have the chance to spend ETERNITY with LOVE itself!  So. Fear of suffering would not suffice as a reason to reject this job opportunity either. 

My other fear (there’s that word again, fear!) was that we would be taking our children away from their close church community, where they had many like-minded friends to lead them to Christ, as well as rich religious education programs and classes.  Would they have these things where we were going?  Our most important job as parents, bar none, is to get our children to Heaven.  If this job would lead us away from that goal, it was not worth it, not for a second.  But only God himself knew the answer to the question of whether this job would help or hinder the faith of our children.  We could end up in a country where Catholicism is barely practiced at all, or we could end up at the Vatican itself!  Yet again, everything boiled down to fear, and loss of control.  In the end, the only real decision we WERE in control of, was the decision to give the control to the Father, who only desires good things for his children.  So that’s what Don and I did.  God had opened this door, on Pentecost weekend of all weekends, so we would attempt to walk through it.  Don accepted the interview, which was scheduled for 2 months later, in mid July. And for those 2 months, never once did we pray that Don would get the job. Not once. We only prayed that God would lead us down whichever path would lead us and our children closer to Him, whichever path would glorify Him, whether that was staying in Panama City as a nurse and a cop, or traveling to the ends of the earth.