Begin Again

In the past ten months I have started six new jobs. That's a new job approximately every 1.7 months which is definitely a figure that is above average. Also, it's not something I expected to face as I entered the second half of my twenties. I don't know where I thought I would be at this point, but I can tell you I thought it would be somewhere stable. Or predictable. Or secure. Or preferably all three.

I am not someone who gets pumped up about beginnings. And I hate endings. What I really appreciate is the comfortable, worn-in, feels-like-home middle. 

And then here I find myself, again and again, starting over. Putting on a smile and stepping into a new place saying, "Hey, I'm Beth, please like me. But not too much because I won't be here long." 

For someone who used to feel physically sick every time I was in a new situation, it's been a challenge. I've been rewarded with some amazing experiences in the past year that I would never have had if I stayed in my comfort zone. But it's still been hard. 

With each change, I keep grasping for what I'm supposed to be learning. Because living in a state of uncertainty leaves you wanting something sure. Even if that something is just the knowledge that there is a purpose for it all. 

I'm still not sure what, if anything, I'm meant to learn. If I tried I might say I've learned to have less fear of new things and new people. Or that I am capable of more than I thought. Or to trust that God is still sovereign when I'm in over my head. Or that sometimes it's okay to be over your head because that's how you learn to swim. 

Or maybe there was no lesson. Maybe it's just the way I've grown and softened and eased into the uncertainty that encapsulates most parts of life if we're honest. 

There's a prayer that I fall back on whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed with life and unsure of my place in it. It's based on Psalm 100:5. A reaffirmation that the One I believe in is over and above how scattered and insecure my life feels in a given moment. 

Lord, you are good, and your love endures forever, your faithfulness for all generations. 

All generations. I'm a blip in the history of humanity. A spark shooting upwards and fading. 

And yet- He is faithful.

And yet- He is good.

And yet- He loves me. 

He loves me. Loves this desperately human particle in a galaxy full of wonders. Compared with that certainty, all my uncertainty seems small.

I still feel awkward and a little scared every time I go back to being the new girl. And as I start the interview process for what I hope will be my last new job for the foreseeable future, I'm scared of that prospect too. But I know I have something to hold on to that will never be shaken.