Less than 24 hours later. Yes, that is how quickly God affirmed our decision.
Which is ironic because it took less than 24 hours for Him to affirm our decision to come to seminary.
24 hours is a big trend in the "God dealing with the Souths" saga. Which I appreciate, as patience is not my strong suit. Patients, yes. Patience, no.
Big D came home from work, sat on the sofa, and announced, "Guess what I saw today? The Advertiser needs a managing editor."
Gulp. Swallow. Remember to breathe. Am I having a hot flash or am I about to pass out?
For those that don't know, Paul was the managing editor of The Mississippi Press before we came to New Orleans. Managing Editor is sort of his "thing". He had been hesitant to go back to a newsroom, but I kept thinking it was sort of goofballish in a slow learner sort of way not to do what God has tremendously gifted him to do.
Let me take a moment to brag. My husband has been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. He has won too many awards to even begin to list. His column writing is second to none. Seriously. He can make you laugh and then cry all in the same sentence. In a word, he is a writing rock star. He can take a piece of work and make it better in his role as editor. He knows a good story and he knows how to get it. He has a gift. I've always known it. Those that know him and have worked with him and for him know it as well.
So I sat on the sofa, taking slow, cleansing, Lamaze style breaths in an effort not to be over-zealous and scare him by screaming "SAY WHAAAAAA?!!" When I did speak, it was to softly say, "Wow. That is quite a coincidence, isn't it?"
Not that I believe in co-inky-dinks. I don't. I believe God orchestrates everything.
So I sort of calmly, but with a smidge of anxiety lacing my words, said, "Are you going to send in your resume?"
"Yeah, I'll throw in for it."
Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for affirming that we are on the right track. Thank you for this sign telling me that you really are right here, paving the way. Showing us the path. Thank you.
Paul's resume went out, and when do you think the Executive Editor wrote him a note saying, "Let's get together and talk?"
24 hours later.