Dear Texas

For those of you unfamiliar with my story, I’ll explain: I am a repeat Jonah offender.

By that, I mean when God says turn left, I tend to run in the opposite direction until God ultimately brings me back to turning left.

Three years ago, I quit my job because I felt like God was asking that of me. And I remember the day after I submitted my two weeks’ notice, I heard a still, quiet voice saying to move to Phoenix. I said no immediately. It made no sense. My life was in Tucson. My security, I presumed, was in Tucson.

So for three months, I struggled financially and spiritually. I was bitter, angry, selfish and confused. And any time I heard God say to move to Phoenix, I said no.

Until finally, one day I told God I was done fighting Him and in three days, my life completely changed.

For a long time, I grieved my sin. I asked God for another opportunity to show Him and more importantly, myself, that my faith could be made complete.

Phoenix changed my life. I met some of the very best people I have ever met here. I had an amazing job, doing good work, and had bosses who believed that I was capable of so much. I had my own column in a magazine and learned how to do taxes for the deaf community. I volunteered at my church and joined a great community group.

I could see myself settling here, staying here. I was and am so happy here.

And then one day, I realized that I would have to leave my current job. I sobbed my way through that decision. I followed God without question. Even when my next job fell through. Even when my next roommate declined to move in. God would be faithful. I was sure of it.

So why was I surprised when I woke up this morning and the first thing I heard was Move to Texas?

I burst into tears at the thought. I was so unbelievably happy here. Why would God ask this of me?

I remembered the prayer I had prayed three years ago. I had wanted my faith to be made complete, lacking nothing.

This time, I would be obedient. I have a friend in Texas so I had an idea of where I would start. I made a call to my dad, a seasoned headhunter, and asked him to look for jobs in both Texas and Phoenix (just in case I was wrong). I started researching apartments and healthcare. I texted my friend so we could chat. I know that God would only open the door He wanted me to walk through.

And I cried all day.

Just like I cried my way through packing to move to Phoenix.

Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong.

But in the very real chance I’m not, I’ll miss you Arizona. It’s time for me to go home.

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