The greatest turning point in my walk with the Lord came last summer in the little town of Monument, Colorado.
For almost a year, I had been experiencing an ever-growing sense of dissatisfaction, both personally and professionally. Professionally I knew I was not in the right position, and daily felt I was a square peg in a round hole. I was capable of - and wanted - so much more. But more what? I didn't have the answers but it was then that I began to search...
By October 2013, it was obvious that I was no longer a good fit for what the company wanted my position to become. So at my quarterly review I did a (probably) foolish and yet (for me) very courageous thing: I admitted that to my boss. My last day was two weeks later.
It was mutual and amicable and, looking back, was probably God-ordained. Two days after my last day, my husband Tim sat me down and stated that he could no longer live in our "miserable marriage" and - although he wouldn't do anything until I found another job - he wanted out. This had been going on - back and forth - for several years, so shouldn't have been a huge surprise. However, two losses two days apart made the next six months particularly difficult.
The Phoenix Metro Area is a literal desert for creative jobs... I applied for numerous jobs, read all the right books, attended networking events, hand-crafted each and every resume and cover letter... and nada. (There is no earthly reason I didn't have a great job many times over - except it wasn't where God wanted me - turns out he had something better in mind.)
A Fresh Start
I was desperately in need of a fresh start and Tim began to encourage me to look in other markets, such as Minneapolis and San Diego where creative jobs are more numerous. So in the spring, when my oldest son Matt, his girlfriend AND my daughter Kaitlyn were ALL heading to Denver to attend college there, I thought maybe this could be a fresh start for us all.
I began to network on LinkedIn, connecting with industry and creative professionals in Denver and Colorado Springs and found that the people were helpful, friendly and almost as nice as "Minnesota-nice" (or should I say "midwest-nice" so our Iowa friends aren't offended LOL).
Megan would, of course, be coming with me to Colorado, so I also researched school districts, community theaters, churches and youth groups. It felt like HOME!
When I connected with several creative recruiters who told me if I could get into the market (be living in the area) they could easily place me, it was settled. Plans were made for my son's girlfriend (GF) and I to head to Denver early, get jobs, get an apartment and get settled before everyone else arrived. We found a small, family-owned Lodge in Monument, Colorado, which had extended stay units available for rent.
So in mid-June, GF packed up her car and energetic, large German Shepherd and drove from Minnesota ... and I flew up from Phoenix a week later, on June 24. My other son's girlfriend, Kim, came from Phoenix with me, and my son, Eric, followed later that week.
Now, it is a total understatement to say that a LOT of BIZARRE things happened the first ten days I was there. And although the story isn't totally complete without those details, they will have to wait for another day, or we will NEVER get to the point of this story...
Hitting Rock Bottom
Fast forward to Friday, July 4, 2014 - Independence Day, Monument, Colorado. It was the late afternoon and I was alone on a national holiday so naturally what did I decide to do? "I will do laundry."
Now the laundry soap was nowhere to be found, and I had no quarters. To make matters worse, I could hardly walk so could probably not carry my clothes up the hill to the machines anyway: Several days earlier, the overly-eager 85 pound puppy had wound her leash around my legs and -- upon seeing a small poodle-mix -- proceeded to tear off down the road. Thus I became a spinning top, landed in a ditch with a hyper-extended knee. (Funny thing is, that is NOT the worst thing that happened to me during those first few days in Colorado!)
So resourceful "lemons-into-lemonade" me proceeded to wash clothes in the tiny bathroom sink, using shampoo as the soap. I was about halfway through with rolling up the last batch in a towel and standing on in (with my good leg) to ring it out.
I bent over to pick it up off the floor and when I straightened up my heart started to pound and my head began to spin. My chest got sickeningly tight and I couldn't breathe. I know now that it was just an anxiety attack, but at the time it felt like I was dying.
I stood up, locked teary eyes with my reflection in the mirror and cried out, “Ok Lord, if this is anything bad, please just make it fatal. I just want to come home. No more ambulances, emergency surgeries, colostomy bags ... No new tragic physical condition. Just take me. I want to be done, Let this all be over."
It was bad enough that I could barely walk from the knee injury... If something really serious was going on, I knew it would break me. I waited, but nothing happened.
Sitting on the toilet, I began to cry. I sobbed, utterly broken, empty, used up, spent. I was out of ideas. After so much planning, sacrifice & effort, I was stuck. I had no home, no job, no money, no marriage, no children (nobody was talking to me by this time), no car, no health, no ideas, no resources. There was no place for me. In reality, I had never really fit in anywhere. I told the Lord it was as if He had built me to be somewhere that didn’t exist.
I have no idea how long I sat there in total despair. But at some point, a picture began to form in my mind - the wild, rugged beauty of the mountains just outside my door and through sobs I whispered, “I lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord... Okay, Lord. I give up. You tell me what to do, and I'll do it. No questions. I will go wherever you tell me to go, do whatever you tell me to do, say whatever you tell me to say. Just bring me into my purpose."
At the time it felt like nothing happened and my situation was as hopeless as before. But looking back, it was the moment that I was TOTALLY DONE. I finally stopped doing things on my own strength and “wisdom” and was ready for the Lord to really work.
Three Hours and George C. Scott
I went to bed early and for some reason started watching the old movie “The Bible” on Amazon Prime. Part way through the movie -- after being amazed that the almost-nudity of creation made it past the censors, apologizing to God for Eve and yelling at Sarai to NOT give Haggar to Abram because it all ends very badly -- I realized that if I was going to survive, I HAD to get to church. I needed to feel the Lord's presence and connect with his people.
So I told the Lord I was going to church. If I had to spend my last few dollars on a taxi, or leave two hours early and hobble over the hill to the church down the road, I would go. Please Lord, help me get to church!!!
The next morning I packed up my laptop and slowly made my way up the hill to the Lodge. Sitting in the lobby with my computer in my lap, leg elevated and a bag of ice on my knee, it wasn't long until a lady approached the front desk with her laptop in hand.
She was having trouble connecting to the hotel's free wifi network and asked if someone could help her. Since they were obviously busy I should have offered to help right away. Normally I would have but I was still too busy feeling sorry for myself, so it took two good nudges from the Holy Spirit before I spoke up and asked if she had Windows 8 - maybe I could help.
So she plopped down next to me on the couch, turned with a big smile and loudly proclaimed, "Hi, I'm Cynthia. My husband and I are moving from Massachusetts because we're going to be Bible College students in the fall. Have you ever heard of Andrew Wommack?" Well hello, Cynthia!
Two minutes later, Cynthia invited me to church. Miracle #1 and the adventure began...
Comments