God and Google Leading

I've been thinking for some time that I should tell the beginning of the story. The how and the why of the story I have been telling. Every story has to have a beginning, and mine is no exception. Many of you readers already know this part of the story, but for those of you who don't, I shall try to sum it up and explain the string of events that led me here.

The world, its people, and their different cultures, has held a great pull for me ever since I was a little girl. My love for people, not geography, climate, or vacation, was what drove my desire to travel. I think that's part of why I always loved history and literature so much. They were subjects that dealt with people. Humanity fascinates me. Why and how do people do the things that they do? This was the basis of my attraction other cultures and their history. I wanted to travel the globe, but I wanted to do so in a manner that allowed me to settle in one place for a long period of time, to attach roots to that place as it were. I wanted to get to know the people I was living with, to learn their language, their customs, their history, their hopes for the future. Traveling around the world has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. I have no idea when it started; it often seems that it has always been there. It is an integral part of who I am; who God created me to be.

This dream seemed to be very difficult to achieve, often impossible. I would look at fliers in high school for exchange programs or even school trips, but the cost was astronomical, even if you got a scholarship. The process repeated itself when I was in college. It didn't help that I attended Peru. Don't read that the wrong way. I adored Peru, I still adore Peru. I could rave about Peru for hours and would like to take this moment to announce that I am a very proud Bobcat and if I ever get the money I would be happy to answer some of those phone calls. But Peru had one characteristic that I both loved and was mildly annoyed with; it was small. Very small. And there was no language study save the two offered semesters of Spanish and no international exchange program. Anything that I did for traveling abroad would be primarily out of pocket. I'm sure you know how hard that would have been for me.

There were other obstacles in the way of this dream, but I must say, money was the biggest one, and I often gave up the idea entirely, only to realize that it would not be set aside so easily. Late summer and early fall of last year witnessed another one of my moments of "giving up that impossible dream". I was seriously considering attending graduate school for American History. I had been considering graduate school for some time, had weighed my options carefully, and had firmly convinced myself that what I wanted more than anything (even traveling abroad) was to go into academia, have my doctorate by the time I was thirty, then get married, and teach at a college like Peru. 

God had other ideas. Obviously.

I started student teaching in August of 2011. I absolutely loved it; I loved teaching, I loved my students, I loved my cooperating teachers, and I loved Bennington High. Graduate school started to waver. I started to think that maybe real world experience would be a good thing. I could teach for a few years and then go back to school. Besides it would be more cost effective that way, and really, I could wait and still have my doctorate by the time I was thirty-five.

But, I still really wanted to go to graduate school. So then I had a moment of brilliance. At least it seemed that way at the time, mostly it was just divine intervention. What if I taught ABROAD for ONE year and THEN went to graduate school?! I could still have my doctorate by the time I was thirty! I could have my cake and eat it too!

But... was it really enough to go abroad for one year? Would I even learn the language? Would I even really get to know people, like really know them? Maybe I could take two years... or three...

Anyway, student teaching continued to go fabulously and I began to look for teaching abroad opportunities. When I mentioned it to people, they insisted that I try. "You're young" they said, "I wish I had gone when I was your age." And my dream reared its head and announced that I was going, everything else be damned. It was time to figure out where, when and how I would go. And low and behold Google showed the way.

I was sitting in Mrs. McGrew's English classroom during plan. I was supposed to be grading papers, but instead I pulled up Google and typed in something along the lines of "teaching English abroad" into the search box. Note: when you type that into Google you get a whole lot of sketch websites. The demand for English teachers around the world is huge and, as with most things like this, the scams are just as huge. So I continued to visit sites, to check job listings, and scroll through the pages intensely. And then there it was. Halfway down the third page.

I dropped everything. "The ELCA?! What?!" I was born and raised in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. I knew they had a global missions program, but the thought had never crossed my mind to work for them. And I certainly did not know they hired teachers. Heck, I don't think I even realized they hired lay people. But there it was: ELCA Global Teach Program. They had three locations: Central Europe, China, and... Japan. God was knocking. To be perfectly honest, He had been knocking for a long time, and finally He had to hit me upside the head. If you're curious about the website that He used here's the link:

http://www.elca.org/Who-We-Are/Our-Three-Expressions/Churchwide-Organization/Global-Mission/Engage-in-Global-Mission/Global-Service/Global-Teach.aspx 

The decision to apply wasn't easy. I prayed. A lot. And ran conversations through my head like this: "Well, yes, I might be CALLED a missionary, but I don't have to act like one right? I mean I can just go teach and go to church on Sundays, and it would be exactly like what I would do if I taught in the States. Right? Except for the whole language thing. But I wouldn't really have to be a missionary. Right? Right?! RIGHT?!" They always fell flat even in my head. No, I knew, deep down, that this was a God thing and He would not be shut out.

It was like He had created the position to match everything I had ever wanted. I would be teaching. I would be there for two years and six months. I would be given language lessons, culture lessons, and history lessons. I would be paid. I would have help with student loans. There should have been nothing, absolutely nothing, to give me pause to apply and go for it with everything I had, and yet I hesitated. It was everything I had ever dreamed of, but once it was there in front of me I was hesitant to act.

I had to face the truth now that my dream was a potential reality and I was, quite frankly, terrified. I had never imagined that my first time abroad would be to a country where I didn't speak the language. I always thought that I would go to England, or something, first. Not Poland, China, or Japan. Honestly, they were three places that I had never given much thought to visiting. Also, while I applied for all three, Japan was the one I really wanted. Japan was the one that had all the conditions listed above. And, for, literally, God only knows what reason, Japan was the one that tugged on my heart. I couldn't figure out why. I still can't. I often get asked, "Why Japan?" and I can honestly say I do not know. I am not ashamed of the fact that I frequently ask God what on Earth I am doing here, because, as much fun as I am having, I really have no idea what kind of impact I can possibly make.  

What I do know is, that starting in November 2011 in an English classroom in Bennington High school, God extended an invitation to me, and then gave me no quarter, no room to maneuver, no way to say no, no way to control the situation. Really, He didn't call me so much as order me; I didn't have much of a say in the matter. I recall no conversations of asking, no pleases, no "Would you mind?" Rather, it was more like, "Hey, here's something I think you'll enjoy, and really I need you to go anyway, so fill this out and get your passport ready." The "please's" came from me later when I ended up really, really, really wanting to go.

 I graduated from college in December and continued to work at the library, a job I really loved. Meanwhile, I filled out the application and agonized over the essay questions. I submitted the application at the end of January and was asked for a phone interview at the end of February. The phone interview was in March and when I got the call to come to Chicago for an in-person interview there was intense shrieking and jumping for joy. My interview was on April 12th and I flew to Chicago and back in one day. I was dressed in a spanking new, bright red, skirt suit and was ridiculously nervous, but I like to think I hid it well. The interview cemented for me that this was where I was supposed to be and when I got home that evening I told my mom that I wanted Japan more than I had ever wanted anything.

The wait was agonizing. They told me I would hear within the week. At a week and a half I couldn't take it anymore and I called. I then played phone tag and it was the absolute worst game of phone tag ever because they wouldn't say anything in the messages. I was like that girl trying to decide if a boy likes her by analyzing every sentence, every tone, every pause, for what it could possibly mean! Finally, on April 25th, I got the call. I had the job. I was home alone at the time and I couldn't call and tell anyone for a good five or ten minutes because I wasn't coherent in the slightest. I was going to Japan.

The rest is history really.

I still can't answer the question "Why Japan?" and to be honest, the question of "What am I doing here?!" is much more frequent for me. I truly cannot explain why I am here other than a call from God. For those of you who know me well, you know what a trial that is to me. I want a plan, I want answers, I want to know exactly what is going to happen, when and where it is going to happen, and why it is going to happen. God doesn't work that way though, and I like to think He has a lot of fun shredding my plans. At least one of us should get a kick out of it. But... I'm working on this trust thing. Slowly, I will get better and maybe even one day I will be able to look back and say, "Ah. I was called to Japan because..." Or, it might always be a mystery. God alone knows the answer. I just really hope He chooses to share it with me someday.

PS: I would like to thank Katie for the title of this blog. Thanks Katie!