Senioritis... for the Fourth Time

I've been a senior several times. A high school senior. A college senior. My master's degree in English was just one calendar year, but by the summer courses my fellow students and I had quite the dose of senioritis. Now I'm a senior in seminary, fulfilling my last class obligations before heading out into the non-academic world for the first extended time in my whole life. The last time I wasn't a student (minus the one year I took off to work), I was five years old.

This is one of the libraries I get to study in during my time at the seminary. Senioritis or no, I will miss the gorgeousness of Princeton's campuses.

But what does my current senioritis bring with it? Well, panic, for one thing. My final review at my Presbytery is in late March, after which I will (Lord willing) be ready for ordination. My fellow PC(USA) seminarians have already begun looking for "calls" (the Presbyterian-ish word for "ministry jobs") throughout the U.S. I'll admit that I'm a bit jealous of their freedom to look all over the country. I know people who have interviewed for positions in Iowa and then turned right around to send in an application to California. Being limited to the Nashville area (where there don't appear to be many available ministry jobs at the moment) is, well, limiting. And panic-inducing.

This panic isn't ever-present, but in my worst moments I feel it quite strongly. A month or so ago I called Daryl in tears, exclaiming with great passion: "I don't want to be an administrative assistant again! I haaaaate filing things!" Mind you, I'm not above that kind of work (I've done it off and on for many, many years). It's just that I've trained with one specific goal in mind for years: ministry. And the possibility that it may take awhile for that to come to fruition can be quite disheartening.

Of course, it's just February. I still have a lot of time to look, and there is still a lot of time for a dream job to open up. And those friends of mine who are already being offered jobs all over the country are very, very dedicated and qualified folks who happen to have very flexible spouses who are able to move anywhere they like. They will be great pastors, and I'm excited for each of them.

Indeed, things are going pretty well for me, despite my current case of senioritis and my moments of panic. It's true that I'm limited to looking for jobs in Nashville because of Daryl's PhD commitments, but because of Daryl's stipend we are in no danger of starving or ending up on the street. I also love Nashville, and though it's difficult to have such a small job market to explore, it's a great place to live. It's a great city full of kind southern folks, amazing musicians, and vibrant churches. I can't wait to live there (least of all because Daryl lives there...). For the next two years we'll have health insurance regardless of whether or not I find a job, and this is a huge blessing. It also makes my occasional "I-don't-have-any-job-possibilities-yet" freak-outs a bit overdramatic, as we're in no tremendous financial danger and no matter what happens on the job front we'll finally be back together in one place.

Yet, when I'm perfectly honest with myself, I realize that what I truly fear is not being without a job, or needing months or years to find a ministry position. What I truly fear is a lack of purpose. I've been running after the academic carrot of one degree after another for so long that I'm afraid I'll feel a little bit aimless when that carrot is gone. I've also been training for the ministry for so long that now I'm dying to do ministry. I want to give my heart and soul to the work of the church. All day. Every day. Full time. But it's quite possible that this dream may take awhile. And in the meantime I'm not sure what I'll do.

I came across a prayer written by Trappist monk Thomas Merton on this blog today (thanks, Tonia!). It's titled "A Prayer for Abandonment." I don't feel abandoned, exactly, but I do feel nervous about the months ahead, and about whether a ministry job will ever be waiting for me. This prayer echoes my heart during these final months of seminary. For those of you facing transitions in your own lives, I hope it helps. Take heart - there is always a new day tomorrow, and the Lord is faithful even when we don't quite know the way.

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,
and that I think I am following your will
does not mean I am actually doing so.

But I believe the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing.

I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know if I do this
you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.

I will trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear,
for you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.

Amen.