One by one, our friends and colleagues were called into managers’ offices and let go. The rumors of layoffs were no longer rumors and tensions and second guessing were running rampant as folks gathered in small groups to discuss who would stay and who would go.
You’re safe. They’re not going to let you go. They need you.
These words were echoed by several of my co-workers as we waited to meet with our boss. Although there were two other paralegals and two law school interns, I’d been with the company the longest and Mike depended on my litigation experience.
Even so, when I sat across the desk from Mike, he said the words nobody expected me to hear: Judy, I have to let you go.
I smiled. I mean, how could I not? I’d talked about leaving this job to pursue writing and I didn’t really love being a litigation paralegal. After all, I’d left my job at a New Haven law firm three years earlier in order to attend graduate school in Boston to get my MFA in creative writing. I’d taken the in-house paralegal job at this engineering firm because Mike was super flexible with my class schedule and pretty easy to work with as well.
But this wasn’t where I wanted to be, so, when Mike said those words, I smiled. When he offered to fight for me to keep my position with the company, I smiled even wider, and shook my head. I appreciated his willingness to do so (it meant a lot to me), but what I knew about what was happening was God was at work, not the company.
God was pushing me out of Egypt because He’d heard my grumbling and listened to my prayers and He knew I wasn’t going to go without a well-meaning shove. Faith works that way in my life sometimes. I like to think of it as the force of faith.
The force of faith is when I pray and I know what I probably need to do. Actually, I know without the probably what I need to do, but I hesitate. I cling to what I know and I stick around my Egypt a little bit longer and, then, I wander in the desert and grumble about God’s plan and yearn to return to the now-glorified memory of my Egypt.
Like the Israelites, when Moses showed up and led them from Egypt with promises of a land flowing with milk and honey, I longed for freedom in the promised land as long as it came with the constraints and safety of my comfortable Egypt. But we all know that’s not how life with God works; that’s not what living by faith looks like.
Thus, the force of faith.
Because sometimes faith looks like a layoff in order to set your feet upon the path that will lead you toward better things. And when we take that step (even if we are sometimes forced into that step), faith can propel us in ways we cannot know when we are standing still.
Quite often I reflect on the moment I was laid off and the journey it started for me. It was a journey that involved learning to say, yes, to God when God said, no, and when He said, go. I find myself thinking about that moment even more these days because it reminds me that God truly keeps His promises and He is who He tells me He is. That time in my life drew me into a deeply personal place with God and I still marvel at how He worked in me and my life; it was a time of deep abiding and it was a wild adventure, too.
And that is something I need to hold fast to in the days to come because God is at work again with another well-meaning push, only this time it involves leaving the rental home we’ve been meaning to leave for over a year now. But, moving is overwhelming and expensive and brings a host of unknowns.
Except God knows. God knows we need to go. God knows where we should go. God knows how we’re going to get there.
And He’s calling us to trust Him. He’s calling us to say, yes, when He says, go. I’m fairly certain there will also be some noes along the way, too. But my experience reminds me to trust Him without hesitation.
So, it isn’t all that surprising that the couple who came and looked at the property on Thursday last week had a contract to purchase the place by Friday and that we have to move by the end of August.
It wasn’t surprising, but still it was overwhelming. At least at first it was. It was until I remembered that day in Mike’s office and how God began yet another good work in me then, like He is now. Because now, I see it as another adventure in faith with God. And, so, we go. We go in faith. We go with God. We go with prayer.