I am heading into my last week of working with Aplos after three and a half years. It has been such a fun ride and I am sad it's coming to an end. I have worked for the best boss, with the best people, and that has made all the difference. I got connected with Aplos by a friend who knew I was desperate to leave the place I was in, but I could never have imaged how much better it would be. Since we were still a smaller startup when I joined there was flexibility for me to find what role fit me best, which ended up being customer support. Yeah, talking on the phone all day was surprisingly the best fit for me. (Sorry to all of you whom I've had awkward phone calls with—not even my husband is exempt from those. This really has been the only environment where I am not as awkward to talk to on the phone.) This season has been full of surprises and unexpected joys. I have been stretched and challenged and encouraged to keep growing, all while quoting Arrested Development daily and eating Chipotle on Wednesdays. I have learned the difference between cash and accrual reporting, about debits and credits for different types of accounts, and that eating a whole Costco chicken bake so I that can go "to the field!" is worth the stomach ache. I have met friends who will be stuck with me long after my last day. Leaving is held with feelings of sadness, nostalgia, and fear that can come with an ending. The overarching feeling, though, is thankfulness. Let's not overlook that. Oh, how thankful I am.
After this week, Sam and I will be headed off to Northern California to visit our ninth and tenth national parks: Lassen and Redwood. I see this as my transition time—something else I am so thankful to have since I know we do not always have that luxury. It is also, of course, a chance to celebrate that we have been married for two years, which seem to have flown by and at the same time it feels like we have been doing this for much longer in the best way.
Once we return to Pasadena, I will head into orientation, welcome week, and all of the other going back to school things. Aside from the handful of prerequisite classes I took online through a community college, it has been almost five years since I was last in school. That really feels like a long time ago. I am hoping that I quickly settle into the new but not so unfamiliar rhythm of being a student. I'm also a wife, which is new this time around. I am thankful for a husband who has supported and encouraged me to go back to school without hesitation from the very beginning. I am thankful for, albeit still working on graciously and humbly accepting, his willingness to "switch roles" so that I can be a full-time student and not have to balance a job of my own.
Sometimes I fear that I won't be able to bring enough to the table. If I am not working and have a schedule filled with classes and training and small groups, what will I have to give? There are times I feel myself heading towards the spiral of anxiety in the midst of this new and exciting next season, which is just frustrating, honestly. I have found Herni Nouwen to be a source of great encouragement over the years and once again he brings a refreshing reminder about what to do when the red flags and flashing lights of this anxiety spiral start to grow:
Perhaps the challenge of the gospel lies precisely in the invitation to accept a gift for which we can give nothing in return. For the gift is the life breath of God himself, the Spirit who is poured out on us through Jesus Christ. The life breath frees us from fear and gives us new room to live. A man who prayerfully goes about his life is constantly ready to receive the breath of God, and to let his life be renewed and expanded. The man who never prays, on the contrary, is like the child with asthma; because he is short of breath, the whole world shrivels up before him. He creeps in a corner gasping for air, and is virtually in agony. But the man who prays opens himself to God and can freely breathe again. He stands upright, stretches out his hands and comes out of his corner, free to boldly stride through the world because he can live without fear. (Henri Nouwen, With Open Hands, p. 64., emphasis added.)
So I am reminded that it is important for me to be willing to bring myself to the table, just as I am. I work on practicing what I preach about self-care and the great thing it is to allow others to help you in that. This is the beginning of much more than a graduate program, it is the beginning of a new season. One of trusting, hoping, humbling, and much more learning. I head into these next few weeks of transition, of endings and beginnings, and all that is in between with my hands open and eyes fixed above.
