I remember a specific day just under a year ago when I was out expending my anticipatory nervous energy on a run. I was praying and thinking a lot about what could be, begging God to give this to me “because I think this is really what I want to do.” I was waiting to hear back from admissions at Sacramento State for their Social Work program. It’s beautiful there. Not, like, near-the-beach beautiful, but it would be fun to live there, right? It’d be good enough. I was trying to convince myself of it. My job had exposed me to a lot of issues that kids have to deal with, especially within the home, which hinder their development in many ways. Without even fully understanding what social work would entail, I decided to pursue a degree, knowing at least it could land me a job in foster care, or something along that line. Honestly, the coursework looked kind of grueling and not entirely up my alley, but the bigger picture was beautiful in my mind. Still is. It was something.

My run was over. I was stretching, and out of nowhere, at my feet was this tiny little sticker that said “San Diego.” Someone’s left-behind alumni paraphernalia happened to be stuck to the ground at my high school alma mater, where I was standing, on this day, at this moment.

I couldn’t control the very first thought I had. It reached all the way down to the deepest part of my heart, where only a few things in life reside that elicit an almost crippling butterfly effect at the degree of “want” that they seem to harbor.

San Diego, California is one of those things.

(Yes, even more than Santa Cruz.)

Being born but not raised in SD means that every visit back with my family for the past twenty-something years, seeing family friends, eating at favorite restaurants, driving down favorite streets, looking at favorite houses, and hearing mom and dad reminisce about their married life in southern CA for the first 8 years before they had kids, stirred some kind of nostalgia in me. I’ve always vocalized how much I’d love to live there, even if just for a time.

It was a whisper, but its effect was sharp, piercing all the way through,

“that is what you really want.”

So why was I settling for anything less? It came out of thin air, and really not wanting to acknowledge it, because I wanted what I had already put my efforts into – Sacramento – to be good enough, I ignored it. Making my biggest dream of living in San Diego a reality would mean a whole lot more waiting and effort, and probably trial and error again, and it would just be way easier if Sacramento panned out the way I (thought I) wanted it to. I couldn’t dream as big as SD … my favorite place ever… how could I possibly try to go for what I really want…

It would be too good to be true.

Rejection from Sacramento was initially devastating because I knew I had to start all over. But it was also a relief because I realized at that point it clearly wasn’t right; I was acting out of an inability to sit still and a refusal to try. At this point I had to trust there was something else – I even dared to say, better. And so began another season of waiting and praying and researching and deciding. I committed to giving my job another school year and ended up with a new site placement at a high school. It’s exposed me a lot more to the world of mental health. Meeting with older students and talking through some of the most vulnerable and painful parts of their lives has left me feeling, in many instances, insanely helpless in the best way. Every day I hit a wall, knowing how much more helpful I could be with more knowledge and education. It has forced me to not lean on my own strength, confirmed how badly I want to go back to school, and propelled me into what I believe to be the most fitting career path.

I did a bunch of research, narrowed my options, and through tears of anxiety in the most frustrating time of uncertainty, actually listened to my dad’s encouragement to think bigger, dream bigger; to broaden my horizons and “get out there.” I went for it and applied to Azusa Pacific’s Master’s in Clinical Psychology program at their regional campus in San Diego because why the heck not. That is what I really want and I was ready to acknowledge it. I prayed the same thing I had about Sacramento: that the decision would be made for me, that God would not allow me to get accepted if this isn’t right, but also that this really would be it this time.

While waiting to hear back, I prayed several times that even if I didn’t get in and ended up in the same boat for yet another year, with the same job, living in the same town, wondering the same things about what the heck to do with my life and when something will change for me like it seems to be for everyone around me, even if, “God, still I will praise you. Still I will choose to believe that you are good.” That’s one of the hardest prayers to utter. And even as I said it, I asked Him to help me mean it and believe it. I’m learning the delicate balance of receiving each thing that God gives, and it’s been a little harder than I expected to receive something this good. I’m struggling to not let pride consume me in this new adventure, because quite honestly, yes, I absolutely want to shout from the rooftops what I get to do, and look how cool my life is about to be, as if it’s all about and because of me. Now that this is all a reality, I have to remember to give credit where it’s due, and to praise God for who He is, not just because I got what I wanted. In doing so I’m reminded that worship isn’t about me – how I feel and what I do or don’t have. I’m challenged to make sure that, no matter what kinds of changes in circumstance may light up my whole demeanor, God is still my reason for getting up in the morning. If He were to take it all away, I want to know that, albeit with a “broken and contrite heart” (Psalm 51:17), still I would praise Him.

I had a Skype interview and two days later was offered admission.

It took me a couple days to email back with my official acceptance. I was a little paralyzed by shock, excitement, and disbelief. Here’s why:

I’ve somehow adopted a very warped view of God, and this is me exposing that, and how He continues to challenge it. I have a hard time with the truth that He indeed loves to give good gifts to His children. I too often assume that because Jesus promised His followers that there will be trials and suffering in this life (John 16:33), then mine will inevitably be marked by the kind that requires me to deny everything I want in order to ensure that God remains central to my purpose and existence; to accept that I will instead live in want of all the things in this life that are deemed good and from Him because I know myself – In the face of good things, I feel I am incapable of still wanting Him the most. So by default, He wants to force me into submission by withholding, right? (Wrong.) I don’t deserve the good things if I can’t appreciate them as second to Him. Best to just shove them all under the rug, stifle and ignore them, right? (Wrong.) What is best is to lay each desire on the altar, offering them back to God and inviting Him to do what He wishes – either bless and be part of each one or remove them from my heart entirely. Essentially, as Oswald Chambers says, I’ve chosen my own martyrdom and assumed that I already know all the ways God wants me to suffer for His sake, and all the sacrifices He wants me to make, before He’s even actually called me to make them. Even though sacrifice is necessary in the life of a Christian, the heart of God is kind and generous. He truly does love to give good gifts to His children (Luke 11:13); He loves to give us the desires of our hearts (Psalm 37:4) when doing so is in our best interest. And He loves to see us enjoy those things. This is what I’m learning to do: not to deny my humanity, but to instead let God be sovereign over it, showing me what’s from Him and what’s not, and what to do from there. “‘Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?'” (Job 1:10).

I know there is a balance to all of this, and I know I’ll always have much to learn about the character of the God I worship, breathe and live for. I know He is who He says He is – that in addition to being a just and loving judge, and sovereign King, He really, truly is also a good Father, a shepherd, a friend,

a giver.

He has given me a very long-awaited and what I think may be His best “yes” yet, so I’ve given Azusa mine. I’m enrolling for the spring semester to complete a few online classes from home while I wrap up the 2018-2019 school year at work. I’ll be moving to San Diego in the summer, in time for the fall semester.

No, I don’t know where I’ll live.

No, I don’t know where I’ll work.

No, I don’t know exactly when I’m moving.

And no, absolutely, one-hundred percent, hands-down, I am not prepared for what I anticipate will be the hardest and most exhilarating few days of my life when the time comes.

Inevitably, I’m starting to have moments where I freak out a little about completely starting over and leaving my family and everything familiar. That tempts me to despair and question if this is really right, until I recall how God has guided and confirmed every step along the way.

I said this would be too good to be true, and God said, “watch Me make it true to show you I’m that good.”

So, regardless of every unknown, if you ask me if I’m excited about what He had for me all along, I will respond with sparkles in my eyes (which may or may not be the glisten of oncoming tears) and

my best

“YES!”