People keep asking if I’m excited about my provisional acceptance to The Austin Stone’s residency program. “Of course I am,” I reply. “Of course.” Something in my words, voice, or face must provoke doubt, though, because people, including complete strangers, grill me. “You don’t sound that excited.”
The words make me wonder if I should feel more excited. Perhaps the appropriate response would be to jump up and down in joy, puddle to the floor in grateful tears, or cartwheel across the front yard. (Forget the third. I never cartwheeled as an eight-year-old. I’m not even going to make the attempt as an almost thirty-five-year-old.)
However, the more I reflect on how I actually feel, the more I realize my emotions are not ones of unadulterated excitement. Most of the time, at least right now, bewilderment overrides excitement. I feel slightly stunned and largely overwhelmed. None of those reactions are necessarily positive or negative; rather, the three contain elements of both.
Bewildered by God’s Goodness
After I applied for the residency, I found myself hoping and praying for it. I wanted it. The residency seemed like the perfect fit, combining education, research, and writing under the header of “equipping.”
I also experienced other emotions, namely, my usual disposition. It wends toward pessimistic, if not downright cynical, explaining why my past boss, who is ethnically Jewish, pronounced me more Jewish than he. (I’m not Jewish, by the way, at least not as far as I know.) It said to prepare myself for bad news by thinking through the worst-case scenario, that is, not getting the residency.
I’m not sure the attitude is altogether wrong. I know I have to decide how I will react to certain outcomes before they occur. That is, every situation becomes a sort of battle in which I have to decide — long before walking onto the battleground — whether I will praise and glorify God before, during, and after the fight.
The attitude, however, isn’t wholly right. It sometimes places me on a sort of fence. I want to trust God completely. At the same time, I desire to protect myself from hurt, so I shy away from asking God for what I want. God still works with my middling faith — works in spite of it, really — which explains my state of baffled bewilderment. God is good to me because he’s good, not because I’ve been good or done anything special to garner attention or approval.
Stunned by God’s Gifts
God’s goodness and kindness also enlightens why I felt and feel stunned. Once I received the acceptance letter, I experienced some excitement. How could I not? I got in, an amazing result.
I also felt stunned, an emotion that is neither all bad nor all good. Like the bewilderment, the emotion compasses both aspects. Being stunned and amazed often produces a sense of awe and wonder, kind of like the disciples in Acts. God adds to their number daily, and they look at each other in disbelief.
I feel much the same way about the provisional acceptance to the residency program. (I react similarly to being a STUDENTS leader. Who would have thought I’d ever lead a group of sixth grade girls? Why would God place me in such a role? It’s bizarre, unfathomable.) The acceptance letter testifies to God’s constant, active grace, despite my many failures and sin struggles. It reminds me that God isn’t done with me and hasn’t cast me aside. He loves me and works through me on the basis of who he is, not who I am or what I’ve done.
That, however, begins to illuminate my particular problems with being stunned. I regularly fail to receive gifts well, from the smallest of compliments to the largest Kickstarter donation. I want to pay back the gift-giver somehow, to create an even playing field. The motion’s completely ridiculous; I can’t pay God back when he’s done everything. All I can do is accept his gifts with reverential gratitude and thank him for being a good father to a terrible daughter.
Overwhelmed by What’s to Come
Bewildered and stunned naturally progress into overwhelmed. I certainly feel overwhelmed, in a variety of ways. That variety, as with the stunned and bewildered emotions, comprises both positive and negative features.
The positive side: I’m overwhelmed by God’s direction thus far. I spent much of last year frustrated and uncertain. Oh, I tried to be satisfied and content with where I was, and I am grateful for my ten-plus years in marketing and communications. I’ve learned a lot, and I’m certain my knowledge and experiences will see continued use in the future.
However, an…itch seemed to develop last year. I began to long for more fulfilling work, work that better bridged art, culture, and faith. I didn’t know how to define what I sought, but I knew I was seeking it.
It, perhaps ironically or fittingly, found me. The residency at The Austin Stone combines all the things I love for the purpose of equipping people, from artists and employees to entrepreneurs and parents, to live out the gospel in their everyday lives. My work would become an act of service, an act of worship, even as it taught and helped people.
Getting to that point, though, is where I begin to feel overwhelmed again. The position isn’t a sure thing; support must be raised. I also have to tell my story, communicating the need, solution, and request for financial and spiritual support. I’m not sure how to go about that when my work would be “behind the scenes.”
Clarity will come, I’m sure. I know, too, that I’m trying to account for too many things at once. I need to sit and rest for a moment. Be still. I need to be faithful in this day and to its tasks, not get caught up in all the details. God says to pursue him first, so that’s what I need to do: pursue him.
Maybe I don’t feel as excited about the residency as I should. Who’s to say? Everybody responds to situations differently. As for me, I feel overwhelmed, bewildered, and stunned in good and not-so-good ways.
Image: Allen Warren (Creative Commons)