My Story - Part 2

Andy began to look for work in the [small town] area. At first, we assumed he would be the one to work. I had always told him that if we were ever to move, I would stay home with our children. Andy looked but could not find work near [small town]. Maybe God is closing the door on this move, I thought. I had not even considered the idea that I may have to work.

One week later, a letter came in the mail. As a physical therapist, I get almost daily mail seeking therapists to fill job openings. Usually, I look at them out of curiosity and then promptly discard them. But this one was different. This one was from a large, expanding Catholic organization in the Stevens Point area, calling therapists to “explore the back roads of your community” and to “bring strong Christian values and compassion to the people you serve.” It was a home health agency.

“I could do this,” I told Andy, as I stood at the entrance of the living room, reading it over. “I’ve had experience in an orthopedic clinic and in a nursing home. This would be a good way to combine those skills. And the job description is right up my alley.”

I secured a phone interview with the department head. Her further description of the position was not what I was hoping, though. This is going to be more like working in the nursing home and less like orthopedics, I thought. I had learned through working in both settings that I had enjoyed the orthopedic setting much more and felt my skills were much stronger there. She also told me the opening was in [another small city]. That would be a sixty-minute drive each way, plus all the driving between seeing patients. I was less than enthusiastic.

As I further considered that option, I felt drawn to work in orthopedics again. I also thought that I would like to be a part of a smaller, more personal group rather than a growing multi-disciplinary company. I remembered having driven by a small, privately owned physical therapy clinic in [small city]. I called their number and spoke with one of the clinic’s co-owners, also a physical therapist. We met two weeks later at the main office. As I spoke with her and looked around their treatment area, I was much more impressed. I could imagine myself working there. “But I’m not in a position to offer you a job,” she told me. I understood but felt excited about this possibility anyway.

Two months passed before any other significant developments occurred. My mom watched the boys one night around that time so that Andy and I could go out. Over dinner, we talked about our dating days, before getting married or having children, and about how God had brought us together.

The next morning, I brought out my journal from that time, and Andy and I sat on the couch and read it together. I was reminded of my prayer of surrender to God just before Andy and I met. Never before had I given myself to God in the way I did on that day. I had always wanted to get married, and I had been growing more impatient about it, doing whatever I could within my power to find someone to date and, eventually, marry. All my efforts had turned up nothing but frustration and embarrassment. Having exhausted my own efforts, in near-desperation, I gave it all up to God, praying, “I place my trust in You, Lord, knowing that Your Will for me, Your plan for me, whatever it is, is far better than anything I could plan for myself. Your plan, while it may be more difficult, will bring me more joy and peace than I could bring myself. You know I want to marry, but I place my life in Your hands. May Your Will be done.”

That next week, at the outpatient clinic where I worked, one of my patients and I were talking about her new boyfriend as she practiced a few new exercises I had instructed her in. Casually, she asked me, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Just as casually, without revealing any hint of the recent struggle I had put myself through, I answered, “No, I’m just waiting for the right person to come along.”

She told me, “I work with this guy…. He reminds me a lot of you.” Uh, oh, I thought, she is trying to set me up! I was very hesitant to blindly pursue an unknown relationship at this point. I didn’t think much more of it until the next week when she brought in a small, folded piece of paper and handed it to me at the front desk as she checked in. Not remembering our earlier conversation, I opened it curiously. “Andy,” I read, followed by a number, written in a man’s handwriting. I joked with her about it, but inside I was struggling. On that particular day, I wasn’t planning on calling.

A few days later, on a Sunday, I sat on my couch, holding the phone. “He did write his own name and number on the paper; he’s probably expecting my call,” I reasoned. I dialed the number on the paper several times but hung up each time before it rang. After I finally let it ring, Andy picked up. Nervously, I introduced myself, and he knew who I was immediately. “What are you up to today?” I asked after the normal initial conversation. Amid laundry and dishes, he said he had gone to church that morning. Church? “Where do you go to church?” I interrupted him. “The Cathedral,” he said. He’s Catholic!

Sharing my faith was very important to me. I quickly made a decision: getting to know Andy better might be well worth the risk of being too forward. “Do you have plans this afternoon?” I asked. “Just finishing laundry” was the reply. “Would you like to go rollerblading?”

Andy and I were married sixteen months later. I fully believe that God was just waiting for me to surrender my will to Him so that I would know that it was not through my own efforts that we met, but through God’s grace.

Sitting on the couch with Andy four years later, remembering this, I realized suddenly that I had not fully given our search for work to God; I had maintained a portion of control for myself. I silently said a quick prayer, “Lord, no matter what Your plan is for us, may Your Will - not my will - be done,” And wholeheartedly gave God everything with the hope that He would work in our lives then the same way he had when we had met. I stood up then, with a peace and trust in my heart I had not felt since the moment I had first considered God’s call that we move to [small town], and announced I was going to take a shower.

As I finished my shower, I heard the phone ring. Andy was busy with the boys and couldn’t answer it. The answering machine picked up. It was another physical therapist from the orthopedic clinic I had interest in. I rushed out of the bathroom to hear. “We would like to set up a time for an interview if you’re still interested.” Interested? Yes, I’m still interested! “One of our therapists just gave her notice yesterday. We have an opening we need to fill in our [another small town] clinic.” Thanking God, I rushed into the bedroom, dressed, and called to set up an interview. God definitely wanted us to know that He was in charge. Again, I knew He had just been waiting for me to surrender my will to Him before offering us this answer to our prayers.

Throughout the following two months, God continued to teach us about the importance of surrendering to His Will. I was offered the position with the orthopedic clinic soon after the interview. Then, when our initial search for a duplex in the [small town] area turned up nothing, He provided the perfect duplex for our family - once we had put it into His hands. The same happened when we sold our house. God certainly had His hand in our move to [small town], and He wanted us to understand, in no uncertain terms, that He was taking care of us. He left nothing out.