A white flower and a pandemic...

The last few years, during the week of New Year's, I have asked Jesus to give me a word for the year ahead.

2018 was steadfast.
2019 was joy.

2020...The word that came, I hesitated to accept. In fact I asked Jesus if he might have a different word, cause I wasn't thrilled about the idea...

2020 was surprise.

My boss, Stan, had just announced his resignation effective June 15th, and I knew our executive assistant, Marlene, was about to announce her retirement. These were difficult announcements for me.

 

I had had enough surprise.

Marlene looked at me and said, "yes, but there are good surprises too, Kathleen - this doesn't mean only difficult things!"

Enter January semester. Lots of questions and encouragement for me to apply to be the Dean of Students, but I knew in my heart that it wasn't the role for me. I've always loved my role: the opportunity to lead, but be #2 (I love being #2), the flexibility to teach and plan events, while journeying with our students through one-on-one connections.

A good friend said, "I agree, I see you moving more and more into leadership opportunities and maybe teaching than I see you moving more into Student Development."

Enter early February: difficult conversations with students, the anniversary of the death of a student (which I sense in my bones before I even look at the calendar), questions around the needs of students and how do we do all of this better? I felt the weariness, and started to reflect on my friend's earlier statement. Maybe it was time to pray about my own timeline in this role.

I sent an email to a number of friends and family who pray, who listen, who share what they hear (and who have very little connection to the college and therefore would be unbiased in their listening). I simply told them I was wondering about my timeline, and would they pray?

Within days, I was somewhat shocked by how clear the response was: "new beginnings", "transition", "the time is now". Not one person encouraged me to stick it out, to remain, to hold on, which was perhaps actually what I was expecting to hear.

My friend Nate sent me a voice memo (not unlike him), and as I drove to work, I listened to his message:

As I pray, I see you holding a flower. It has one petal left, and as that petal drops to the ground, you see that the ground before you, which used to be a field of flowers, is now barren. It's desert.  

Jesus leads you up to a watchtower, shows you the land you came from, and reminds you, that even though it looks barren now, it was rich with flowers, it produced much, and you need to remember that.  

He then turns you to look out over a forest. He points out a campfire, and he says, "they're fanning the flame, and you need to go find them". 

Nate then laughed (one of those "I know, this is a lot" laughs), and said, "well, friend, I think you might be done!?"

My niece-friend illustrated this for me...and I cried.

The craziest part of this was not the image he spoke to me that morning. It was actually the fact that this was an image that he had shared with me 4 years earlier.

In 2016, I had been working on class prep one night, and Nate sent me a text: "You're holding a white flower, and as you give it away, you continue to have it. I think the message is that you don't have to worry about giving of yourself in the season: God will continue to provide."

A week later, our student passed away, and I entered into one of the most difficult seasons of my professional life.

8 months after that, my boss was on sabbatical, I was working with a brand new Residence Director, and within a week of Stan taking time off, we had what felt like multiple "fires" happening in the dorms. (Remember, I love being #2...) I texted Nate and said, "please pray - I can't tell you why - please just pray!"

Nate texted back: "You're holding a flower, and it only has one petal left...but the petal isn't going to fall, and God's going to restore you. Hold on."

And so, on that February morning just weeks ago, as I drove to work and heard Nate speak again of a flower, I knew it was the continuation of a story that Jesus had been weaving in me for the last four years; a permission to say that it was now the end. (And of course when I told Nate about this, he had no memory of it...because it wasn't his message to remember).

When I arrived at work, I told both Stan and Matt (my co-director for our Applied Leadership program)...Matt looked at me and said, "Ok, so if you're not going to be the Associate Dean anymore, what will you do?"

I looked at him, and said, "I have no idea!"

And then I told him three ideas I had (because apparently I did have ideas, but hadn't realized they'd been stewing in the background of my thoughts). 

Within a week of that sharing, those three ideas all became realities to some extent or another: I had divinely appointed conversations and invitations. They were all so surreal that by the end of that week, I looked at Matt and said, "I think I have enough reason to say it's time. Whether or not these three things pan out, He's showing me that He can provide the next thing."

I promptly booked an appointment with the President of the college (Bryan also happens to be my former boss, and I consider him a mentor and friend), and wrote up my experience and my thoughts, along with a pitch for a new role (one of the three ideas).

The morning of our meeting, as I walked between buildings with Stan, we were chatting away, and suddenly something caught my eye.

There, on the concrete circle in the middle of campus, was one white flower.

I stopped and took a picture of it; Stan, not realizing I had stopped, turned around and said, "what are you doing?" I replied, "Oh, nothing, just taking a picture of a random WHITE FLOWER!" Knowing the importance to me of this imagery, his eyes got big.

I looked at him and said, "Well, if there was any hesitation about this conversation today, it's gone."

The results of my meeting with Bryan (which I cried through most of, just to ensure you understand this wasn't as easy as it sounds through my written version...) led me to a presentation to our Leadership Team one week later, in which I pitched the new job idea; I felt it was enthusiastically received and that there was hopeful optimism.

And then three days later we shut the school down, sent all our students home, and started online learning due to COVID-19.

Surprise.

I sat in a team meeting (the final one we had all together), and heard all the implications of this pandemic reality for us. And I knew. My job pitch was done. I chose in that moment to release the picture.

Thankfully, Jesus had prepared me well. Not only had he spoken through my community and given such a clear illustration for me (we still make jokes about looking up the video footage to see how that white flower appeared...), but I had also been attending spiritual direction/prayer counselling sessions since September. In one of those sessions, Jesus had gifted me with an image in alignment with Matthew 11:28-30.

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

As this verse spoke over me, the image was clear: Jesus in a hammock, inviting me to join Him, lemonade on the side. He, being omnipresent, could both work and rest; I could not. That was my lesson.

I had asked a former student to illustrate this for me (long before covid), and the arrival of it in the mail in March was a perfect reminder. He can work out my work situation mid-covid. I cannot.

A Sarah Torres Original - this girl has a gift - let me know if you need her contact info

And so, this is what I know.

I will be Associate Dean of Students until August 31, 2020.
As of September 1st, I will reduce to part time loading as Co-Director for the Applied Leadership Program and teaching.

And the rest is unknown.

And I'm ok.

Because He is the hope that anchors us.
Not the plans.
Not the connections.
Not the finances.
Not the work.
Just Him.

And I'm excited to see what He does next.

Surprise.