The End and the Beginning

I just quit my dream job.

Well, maybe it's not quite that simple.

August 4th, 2012 was my final day as Camp Director of Camp of the Hills. To be fair, I let my boss know that I was going to be ready to move on by the end of the 2012 summer sometime in the spring of 2011, so to characterize yesterday as "quitting" might be a tad dramatic. I had been planning how to transition from my time as Camp Director to my successor ever since I first got the job, since that change-over was less than ideal. When I felt like the end of my time was coming, I started preparing the next person's place.

What I didn't realize was that I was not as prepared for my next steps as I believed myself to be. I had believed that with my extensive experience working in ministry and non-profit settings, that I would have a position waiting lined up for after my last summer at camp. I thought that I would have an apartment set up in Abilene, or maybe even a house and a mortgage to which my wife and I would return.

Yet plans have a funny way of falling through sometimes. The non-profits and churches I talked to are not hiring. Amanda and I let our old apartment go at the end of the spring, since we had lodging for the summer at Camp of the Hills and desired to move into a low-income neighborhood in Abilene. After  some disappointments in trying to buy a house and touring a few undesirable apartments, she and I are still without a permanent place to live. We've planned ahead enough to have some financial cushion while I continue the job hunt and our dear friends the Kirbys have offered us room in their house until we find somewhere more permanent, but my life is certainly not what I expected it to be a few short months ago.

And so, here I sit. Typing on the floor, back to a couch in the Kirby's living room. The thirteen years spent at Camp of the Hills are now in the rear view mirror, as are the thirteen before camp. I can clearly see so much that lies behind me, sprawled out over more than a quarter century. Yet the future is unclear. Where will I go? What will I do? What challenges await? How will the ways I've been shaped by my experiences dictate how I meet the future?

More than anything, I look forward to new stories. I live for stories. Stories of what God has done, is doing, or will do. Stories of friends, family, and people I wish I knew. Stories that spark conversation. Stories that matter. My life has been marked with a plethora of great stories; stories that I need to and want to tell. I should get started.