The Blessing of No

It was the month before college graduation, and I was looking for a job.  In just a few short weeks, I would be a newly minted college graduate with an elementary teaching degree.  As I was looking over the available options, not knowing how the application and interview process actually worked, I polished my resume and cover letter, gathered my reference letters and submitted my first applications. 

Then the “no’s” started rolling in, and I was devastated.  Tears came in abundance.

Graduation came and went, the summer rolled on, and still no job.  I didn’t realize it could be this hard finding a job as a new teacher.  The beginning of the school year drew closer, and I grew more frantic.  This desperation is likely why I wound up teaching preschool in Kodiak, Alaska that year.  It was a job and an adventure.  Desperation aside, it was a wonderful experience and was the first in a long list of experiences that continue to shape me today. 

As I look back on this time with several years grace and multiple teaching positions under my belt, I sigh and shake my head at my young 20-year-old self. If only I had known.

Since then, I have been offered positions and politely rejected for positions; I have accepted positions and politely declined positions.  The "no," I have learned, is a blessing.  Five years ago, I resigned from a rather toxic work environment and was seeking new employment.  My “no” in this situation was to a position I was already in but now found unsuitable and unsustainable. This “no” opened the door to opportunities I couldn’t even imagine. 

This “no” opened the door to opportunities I couldn’t even imagine. 

Five years ago, I was ready to leave teaching.  My job search that spring included park ranger jobs in Oregon, if I recall correctly, but I decided to give teaching one more try.  So, when the interview committee at Roberts School in Montana asked if I would consider teaching high school English, I took three seconds to think about it and said yes.

I still shake my head at some of my “yes” answers; they’ve certainly led to interesting experiences.  Yet they’ve also changed my life.  Every answer I’ve ever given, whether “yes” or “no,” has always been an exercise in trusting God.  Trusting Him to catch me when I stumble, to guide me when I can’t seem to find my way forward, to work everything out for my good and His glory.  

Every answer I’ve ever given, whether “yes” or “no,” has always been an exercise in trusting God.

Some of my "no's" have been heartbreaking, though.  My time in Roberts came to a point where I had to say "no" and find another position.  I cried during every class on the last day of school, even if the kids didn’t see me.  My sophomores decorated my car, and I remember driving away and looking in the rear-view mirror at the words “Best English Teacher Ever.”  It’s been two years since then, and I still miss “my kids” every day.

But I have found new teaching positions and new coworkers, more students to love and teach.  More “no’s” have come my way, and I began to realize something rather interesting: sometimes, I hope for the “no.”  My 20-year-old self could not have even fathomed that.

Sometimes, I hope for the “no.”

Being rejected for a position used to mean that there was something wrong with me.  I would take the rejection personally and start questioning everything.  What could I change?  How could I be better?  What do I need to learn?  And while reflection is not necessarily a bad thing, this response was in no way healthy.  I was beating myself up for something I had no control over.  

 I was beating myself up for something I had no control over.  

This year has been different, though.  Since I am gearing up for my move back to Wyoming, I am also looking for a job for next school year.  As I write this post, I have an interview scheduled for tomorrow, and I am at complete peace.  Whether they tell me "yes" or "no," I have no fear.  I have finally realized, neither response has any bearing on me personally.  There is nothing wrong with me if they tell me "no," and there is also no reason to assume I am the "world's best" if they tell me "yes." 

After too many long years, I have started to come to terms with myself.  Professionally speaking, I am a good teacher, have an excellent resume, and have stellar references.  I wish you could peek inside my brain for just a brief second as I type that sentence.  There is no arrogance, no pride, just joy that I can finally say I am happy with who God has made me to be.  There is peace over my many experiences, both positive and negative, that have brought me to where I am today. There is confidence in knowing God truly takes every experience and turns it into good for me and glory for Him.  I am the person I am today because of every single "yes" and "no" that I have been told or that I have spoken.  

I am the person I am today because of every single "yes" and "no" that I have been told or that I have spoken.  

Now that's not to say that I do not still struggle with insecurity and vulnerability regularly, especially when my depression starts to act up.  However, even those things are a "no" I am learning to live with.  Time after time, I have begged for relief from the insecurity, the anxiety, the depression.  So far, the answer has been no, but maybe it's just a "not yet" answer.  I have no way of knowing, but what I do know is that God has a way of showing up in my weaknesses and the "no's" that make His presence unmistakable.  He keeps seeing me through each season and keeps teaching me how to rely on Him through every "yes" and every "no."

God has a way of showing up in my weaknesses and the "no's" that make His presence unmistakable.