When the Answer to Prayer Doesn’t Last

“This feels like such an answer to prayer.”

A friend congratulated me on a job I felt ready for at a company I believed in. The last year was full of lots of uncertainty and budget cuts and the role I was leaving had been shaky at best. This new work would be with a familiar organization whose vision and mission I aligned with. I had friends there and when I announced I’d be joining the team, I got texts and well-wishes and messages of welcome. It felt like I was in the right place at the right time.

And then, a few months later, I was told that while I was a hard worker and talented in many ways, it wasn’t the right fit. They were kind, but in the end, we went our separate ways.

I thought this was an answer to prayer?

And shouldn’t that kind of thing last longer than four months? Shouldn’t I have been able to settle in like coming home? I felt a sense of discouragement, shame, and disbelief. Did I read the situation wrong? Was exhaling a sigh of relief misplaced? Was there some red flag I’d ignored?

It’s hard to be 35, experienced, and searching for a job all over again — especially after eyeing the door of a job for so long and then thinking you were walking through the right one.

Sometimes, when a play takes a sudden turn or a dream dies or a relationship ends, we decide that our time was wasted. And believe me, I’ve told myself over and over that very thing. If I’d just landed in the right place to begin with, I’d be so much better off! If I’d just made the right call or said the right thing or taken the right route, I wouldn’t be in pain now.

One night, as I processed this news, I whispered to a friend, “Well, at least it was four months of provision.”

As the words came out of my mouth, I wondered if perhaps they were an invitation to shift my perspective. Instead of seeing these months as wasted, perhaps there were gifts that were buried deep under the confusion. Perhaps this moment was one to lean into my heartache and ask different questions.

Instead of, “What was the point of that?” I can ask, “Lord, what are you making new in me as a result of this?”

If we’re promised in Scripture that God uses all things for the good of those who love Him, that means that while some things aren’t inherently good, they are being used for good.

Here are some of the invaluable lessons God taught me through this job, even as it was taken away:

1. Make your workspace your own and care for it well. If you’re spending 8 hours at a desk, it should be beautiful.

2. The most confident people are dealing with a whole lot of doubt and insecurity — you should check in on them.

3. When a colleague is overwhelmed, ask if you can take something off their plate.

4. Get up and take a walk between tasks, even just for a minute or two. Your brain will thank you.

5. Sometimes, work days are long and plans change. Don’t overthink it.

6. Sometimes, work days are smooth sailing. Don’t overthink it.

7. Before opening your computer or beginning your shift, ask God for patience, focus, and opportunities to see others.

8. Be generous. Collaborate more than you compete with others.

9. You will not regret going the extra mile to make someone laugh.

10. Disappointments and closed doors are opportunities to surrender to Jesus all over again and walk alongside Him closer as I take the next shaky steps toward what’s next.

I wonder what would happen if we focused less on what we’re missing and more on what we’re gaining or how we’re growing. Not to cover up the pain — I’m still super embarrassed every time someone says, “How’s the new job?” — but to remember that God moves in every season and every moment. To remember that who I am now is not who I was four months ago. And to remember that God is staying the same.

Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. In a world that seems to shift every other hour, sometimes minute by minute, it’s good to pause and look up. To always see Him sitting there, making eye contact, not in a hurry.

If you’re in a place of unexpected loss, I want you to know this, sister: you’ve still got so much to gain in patience and hope and compassion. You will become someone new each day in small ways, and your community will be richer as a result.

Take time to write a note.
Take time to say a prayer.
Take time to crack a joke.

Live fully into whatever this season brings because it might just be the season that you need.