Lazarus

Imagine you meet someone and immediately sparks fly. As you are generally guarded in nature, you proceed cautiously to gauge whether or not there’s any plausibility of a long-term future. You move forward slowly and so far, so good. More time passes and to your surprise, things are going really well, and you begin to let your guard down and invest more of your heart and soul into this person. The more steps forward, the more hurdles successfully passed, the more the hope begins to bubble up and grow inside you. You try to stay grounded but it’s hard when you’re so happy. It’s hard not to imagine that this could be forever. You try not to tell too many people because you’re afraid you’ll blink and it will all be a dream, but you can’t help it. You basically tell everyone. Flash forward and one year has passed. At this point you’re in deep. All of your eggs are in one basket. This must be it. This must be what you’ve been waiting for your entire life. This person has even told you that you’re it! You’re the one. This is happening. Ring the bells. You have invested everything into this person and for one whole year, this person has given back, made promises, and made you so happy.
Then…All of the sudden, to your greatest dismay and disbelief, out of the clear blue sky with no forewarning, this person breaks up with you. And for an arbitrary issue at that! Not only does this person utterly break your heart by abruptly terminating everything you’ve worked so hard to build, they also tell you that there is ZERO possibility of EVER getting back together and to NEVER contact them ever again. There is no second chance. There is no recourse. There is nothing but the pieces of your shattered heart and broken dreams. How would you feel in that moment? A year of your life down the drain with nothing to show for it besides your alligator tears? Well my faithful readers, that is exactly what happened to me except it was not a man, not a person, it was my career.
While lying in bed on January 13, 2019, I stumbled upon a job that I was certain I was born to do. It was a long shot because only 5% of the hundreds of thousands of people who apply for this position every year actually make it in. Cautiously optimistic, I gave it a shot. I passed the first step. Then the next. Then the next. Then the next and the next and the next until next thing you know, one year has gone by and I have passed all 9 steps, interviews, and tests, and I have a glorious offer letter from this prestigious organization. This is it!! I’m in!! My “dream” career. My whole life has led up to this moment and I. AM. IN! I never have to look for another job ever again. Or so I thought.
Now…I am NOT allowed to name said organization on social media or blogs, although I’m sure you can easily deduce to which elite government agency I’m referring. For the sake of subtlety, let’s call this place “Frank.” From the very beginning, I asked God to close the doors to Frank if Frank was not His will. But test after test that I passed, and door after door that kept opening, I was certain working for Frank was God’s will for my life. I thus placed all my hopes and aspirations in Frank. I made plans. I got excited. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I tried not to tell people, but I basically told everyone. I worked so hard. I trained so hard. I pushed my body to its extreme physical limit. I gave 100% of myself to this endeavor, believing it was my ark of the covenant, my holy grail.
After all that, to my absolute horror, Frank pulled the rug from under my feet. For a minor technicality that I am not allowed to say, Frank abruptly rescinded my offer. “You cannot appeal this decision. This decision is final. You are permanently disqualified from Frank employment for life.” To say that I was heartbroken was the understatement of the year. I had no Plan B. To me, having a backup plan was like having a fling with another person while you’re in a committed relationship. I was so sure that I didn’t need a Plan B. I had placed my hope in my career, and that career had let me down.
Devastated, I cried for weeks. I cried on the metro. I cried in the bathroom. I cried in the mail room and in the elevator. How could this be happening? But more importantly, what in the world do I do now?
I was confused and angry at God. I asked Him to close the doors if it wasn’t His will and He did. But not on my timeline. Not in the way that I wanted or expected. God why didn’t you close the doors in the first few months? Why did you help me pass all those hard tests if I was just going to fail at the end? Why did you close the doors at the very last moment? I even prayed and asked God to reverse Frank’s decision. God certainly had the power to do so, but He didn’t. Why?
So there I was, slobbering to my Creator when He quieted my weary heart and led me to John chapter 11. Lazarus and Jesus were close, really close. Lazarus had fallen deathly ill, and his sister Martha, knowing the miraculous power of Jesus, went to Jesus and told him that Lazarus was very sick and near death. Now, we know from the story of the Centurion and his servant in Matthew chapter 8 that Jesus can heal from a distance. “But just say the word and my servant will be healed.” All Jesus had to do was say the word and Lazarus would have been instantly healed. But guess what? Jesus didn’t do that. Jesus chose not to heal Lazarus. Why? A heartbroken Martha essentially asked Jesus the same question. “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” Jesus’ reply left me awe-struck. “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” Then it dawned on me. The reason Jesus didn’t heal Lazarus was because He wanted to do a greater miracle: raising him from the dead.
There are two profound lessons that I have learned through the story of Lazarus and my tumultuous 2020…
God didn’t answer my prayer about working for that organization because He had a much, much better plan in store for me. But before He unveiled His more perfect plan, I needed some pruning. God showed me that my career was an idol in my life that I put before Him. It’s true. I’ve always put my career on a pedestal. Who was I when all my fancy titles and accomplishments had been stripped away? That was the first lesson…That I am not defined by my title or career. I am a daughter of the King. I am beloved by the Most High God. Through that storm God taught me to find joy in His presence. He taught me that my hope should not be placed in a job. HE is my hope.
The second lesson I learned is that God does not operate on our timeline. After Frank “broke up with me” I wanted another job immediately. I wanted God to rescue me out of my sadness and darkness NOW. But there was a lot of growing that needed to happen. There were a lot of changes I needed to make. I learned that God’s ways are so much higher than my ways and His thoughts are higher than my thoughts. I learned to wait on the Lord. He taught me to be still. I learned to keep my eyes on Him in the middle of the storm.
So I guess this is the part of the anecdote where we find our lead protagonist, months after that crushing break, in a totally different situation. She has met someone else. And this time, it’s different. She didn’t put her hopes or dreams in this person because her hope was already placed in something everlasting. She didn’t put this person on a pedestal because that seat in heart had become recently occupied by her Maker. She understood that hindsight is indeed 20/20. She realized that this new person was A MUCH BETTER fit than the last. Now she actually can’t imagine what her life would be like if God answered her prayer and gave her Frank. She laughs because God knows her better than she knows herself.
Lazarus wasn’t healed. He was risen from the dead. God had a more strategic plan in mind for Lazarus than just healing his body, one that would reverberate throughout the village and surrounding towns and bring great glory to God.
I can’t help but find a parallel in this story that God led me to when I was balling my eyes out in my carpet. Looking back, I know with certainty that the job with Frank would not have been a good fit. God had something else. Something He knew I would love and where I’d be able to have a great impact. He just needed to do a little (a lot) of work in me first.
As of Friday, May 15th, I am the new Disaster Program Manager for the American Red Cross in Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas. Yes, you read that correctly. I am leaving D.C. and moving to Texas to work for the largest humanitarian organization in the country. This is a job where I will be able to have a direct impact and help hundreds of people; particularly the poor, underserved, and those whose lives have been upended by tragedy. And I start on June 15th.
I’m simply in awe of God’s goodness and my own short-sightedness…
Stephanie
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” Declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9