hesitant refusal

Recently I've been journaling about how much I miss home. Maybe it's because my grandpa died, or maybe it's because I reconnected with so many good friends this summer, and I would so much rather be 1-2 hours away from them rather than 3-5 hours away from them, but, regardless of the reason, I have begun to question why exactly I have chosen to be three hours away from my family and my closest friends. I'm tired of being away just for the sake of being away. Much of me just wants to be back home.

This morning, unexpectedly, I received a job offer to teach English in my old hometown, at the high school from which I graduated. The English teacher, my high school English teacher, resigned, and the principal, who was my high school chemistry teacher, offered me the job. I have the chance to go back home, to be surrounded by the people who love me the most, and to once again be in the midst of people who know me, not just superficially, but deeply, and who love me very much. I would be close to Bloomington/Normal, small cities which I love, close to my Grandma and my Aunt Sara, not too far away from Melissa and Melissa, closer to Matt and Kristi, closer to Kristen Browning, and closer to Liz Morriss. I would be back at a church where I actually feel known.

Yet, I don't think I can accept this offer. I miss home, but I have ongoing relationships here too. I love the faculty and staff at WHS, and leaving them this quickly would break my heart. I know I don't have an extremely deep relationship with the staff there; I haven't seen any of them except for during professional development activities during the summer, but they have helped me so much through my days at work, and part of me just can't stomach working without them. What's more, I have invested work for this coming school year, and I would have to leave all that behind. It would be like the past two years of my life suddenly came to an abrupt halt, and the tapestry, the painting, the chapter, or whatever cliche' metaphor you want to insert would be incomplete, half-finished, and only inspiring confusion and discomfort.

As much as I yearn for home, I know it's good for me to forge some relationships on my own. Yes, I feel lonely and isolated some of the time, but it has forced me to speak to strangers, reach out to people I barely know, and risk rejection on a level beyond which is not possible in a town where everyone knew my name, my parents' names, my grandparents' names, and my great-grandparents' names. I've had to do so many things for myself, including estabilshing my own reputation, good or bad. At the end of the day, I knew I was the only one really interested in what had happened to me throughout that twelve hours, and I think that is still the part that hurts the most, but at the same time it has helped me appreciate the importance of relationships, and will help me to cherish my relationships in the future.

I still have responsibilities here in Waterloo. Here is where I need to stay. Maybe opportunities we have to turn down are answers to prayer. I long so much to be close to home, but, when I have the chance, I see more reason to stay down here. There are so many people I long to be near, but I understand that there are relationships here that should not be broken off so quickly. I know I would be a great teacher there, but I have responsibilities to be a great teacher here. God still wants me here, and, strangely, I think I still want to be here too. I miss all of you in the CBS Channel 3 viewing area though. I miss you in Chicagoland too. I'll still be here in St. Louis. Write me sometime.