When I was younger, I constantly changed my mind about what I wanted to be when I grew up. From cosmetologist, to lawyer, to orthodontist, to coach, to financial advisor, my answer changed like the wind. Until one day in college, my professor asked me point-blank, “Why are you getting a degree in Business? What do you want to be?” My answer was, for once, completely sincere and honest. “I want to be a mom.” Though other occupations had fleeting intrigue, my earnest desire was always to be a mom. Even early in my college education, I had prayed, “Lord, if it’s Your will, please allow me to stay at home and raise my children.”
For me, this was a big prayer. After all, Tyler and I had been a two income household from the time we were married, and it didn’t seem possible (without God’s massive intervention) that I could afford staying home with our future children. So, when my last semester of college rolled around, I began applying for jobs. I expected to receive multiple offers and steadily climb the corporate ladder. I envisioned myself calling the shots from a corner office, wearing high heels, and having lunch. Still, my heart yearned for an opportunity to raise a family from home.
Well, six weeks prior to graduating, we discovered I was pregnant. The family I’d prayed for was imminent, but the corner office I imagined proved elusive and distant. Of the several applications submitted, I failed to receive a single job offer. In fact, no one ever called for an interview or acknowledged my application. That’s right; my pretty resume, fancy college accolades, and good grades couldn’t even provoke a measly “Thanks, but no thanks.” So, humbled yet hopeful, I continued working as an administrative assistant with my employer of four years, figuring my new degree might warrant a promotion. It didn’t. College claims it propels you forward professionally, but I felt stuck in neutral, unnoticed and unappreciated.
Little did I know, God had a plan. While it differed from my own, I quickly learned its utter superiority.
Approximately three months before my official due date, my employer announced it would be moving offices. The large, two-story lease was almost up in their downtown location. Rather than renew, they wanted to occupy a plot of land they’d purchased for a permanent office, even though it could take years before official completion. In the interim, they planned to set up small, temporary portables, but requested, “Anyone who can and is willing to work from home, please let us know.”
Tears still flow as I recall the relief and gratitude that overcame me. The Lord had miraculously opened the door; I was going to work from home. Furthermore, I didn’t have to struggle or sacrifice in self-effort to make it happen. No; God graciously orchestrated the timing of my graduation, my daughter’s conception, my repeated rejection, and my employer’s relocation, so He could generously give me the desire of my heart.
Oh how wonderful are His ways! They are far beyond human comprehension! His love is deeper and more intense than we could ever fathom!
Y’all, we can place our plans at the feet of Jesus—not in fear or dread, but in faith and trust. He may take what we’ve given Him and break it to pieces. (Yes. That sweet, little plan of ours may fall apart, but only because that’s exactly what it is…little.) Yet, when wholly surrendered to a big God, what is small in our hands is always multiplied in His, creating an abundance surpassing our wildest expectation and meeting the needs of those around us.
Sure; I don’t have a corner office, lofty title, or impressive salary. But, thank You, Jesus! My husband doesn’t have to bear the full burden of our family’s finances; my daughter is not without love or personal attention; and my occupational quest has landed in a most desirable place. After all, I’m a stay-at-home mom.
