If you’ve read anything I’ve written in the last month of so, I have been talking about God and process and trust. This is the prelude to all that soul searching.
In 2011, we moved back to Saint Louis after having been gone for nearly 6 years. I cannot IMPRESS upon you enough how much I didn’t want to come back to Saint Louis. As terribly painful as the end of our time in Chicago had been, I absolutely did not want to come back to MISSOURI. The level of depression and anger I felt? Off the charts. I have a few posts about how Missouri is. I stand by everyone of them. Read them at your leisure.
Anyway, we muddled through very tenuous and contentious waters until finally, the thing that forced us back to Missouri was settled. Tentative discussions about leaving again began. Before we had found a place to live, had applied to jobs–let’s be real!–before we decided where we were going, I started packing. Packing, my dudes. I was “ret-ta-GO.”
We chose Nashville. I applied to jobs. We spent money to go visit. I got an invite to the job fair. I received a job offer that took me out of the classroom along with a slight pay increase. Our lease had come to a close, school was out, a friend let us crash at his spot for a few weeks, we traveled around and enjoyed summer together for the first time SINCE WE LEFT CHICAGO … things was lining up.
It seemed like the perfect move.
Perfect. Until we got there.
Here we were making more money than we had in a while. We found some friends. We found a church we loved. We were both moving up the ranks in our organizations. We were making it work, but something was so off.
It started to fall apart almost immediately. We had no money, and even though work started for me immediately (we’re talking as soon as we got there), somehow I didn’t get a check for a month. SLPS was playing games with my last check, not calling me back or answering emails. TN had weird rules for registering our kids for schools, one of which was that their last (updated) physical had to be filled out on a special form. When school actually started back, the 15 miles between my job and our home became a 2 hour journey to, then from work everyday–God forbid I actually needed to go to the store or it rained. Some days we didn’t get home until 6:30-7:00 pm. I got off work at 3:30. The rent to live in a not-great apartment complex was 3 times the amount we paid for a good quiet neighborhood with dedicated parking in Saint Louis. 3 times, homie. I kid you not. A $785 2 bedroom in the LOU was costing you a good $1700 in Nashville. And my job sucked. These people hated my very guts, and the feeling was kinda mutual. My child was learning nothing. We hardly ever saw Spencer because his work schedule was evenings and weekends. We were all very, very miserable.
My granddad dying and then us having to move again because of the crime (adding 45 minutes to our commutes because aftercare was another 10 miles south of our usual exit), and listen. My friends. Something in me just snapped.
What do you do when what God wants for you and what seems like a good thing don’t match up?