When I was in the first round of interviews for my job with CURE, my interviewer (and soon-to-be boss) asked if there was anything specific I needed in order to do my job. Was there any accommodation or computer program or asset I would find particularly helpful should I end up working for CURE?
The first and only thing I knew I needed was freedom. I needed to know that it would be possible for me to work from home or from a coffee shop a few days a week. I had spent years engineering a freelance life that could operate independent of an office. And, honestly, independent of people. I was sure that was the method in which I would work for the rest of my life: flying solo, unimpeded by the prison of 8-5 life, engaged in friendly-but-casual relationships with coworkers.
I was convinced that I was a happily high-functioning island by definition, and would have fought tooth and nail if you tried to convince me otherwise. I would have felt justified, being fairly introspective and having a solid handle on who I am, in telling you that I was a born introvert, and that it was right and good for my career to function as a reflection of that disposition.
This picture was snapped in the office at a group event last week. Can’t you see how much I’m hating being imprisoned by the walls of an office, forced to interact with coworkers on a daily basis? Don’t I look like I’m just waiting for the moment when I can dash away to the nearest Starbucks? I mean, those sentiments are written all over my face.
Clearly, I was spot-on. I totally knew what I needed.
Here’s the truth I never would have believed 6 months ago: I sincerely look forward to going into the office every day. I am surrounded by coworkers who have already become dear friends. I genuinely dislike working remotely and only do so when absolutely necessary. Because it feels like I am being invited to become part of a family at CURE, and I want to actively accept that invitation.
In a way that rings of Ephesians 3:20, the Lord gave me the one accommodation I never would have thought to ask for:
It’s as if He really does know what we need before we ask. Or before we even know what to ask!
So, basically, I’ve learned that if I know anything about life, it’s that I don’t know anything about life. And I’m really glad to know that. It makes me less likely to wage wars over what I think I need and more likely to trust that whatever God gives me is what I actually need.
He tends to be spot-on.