After the second interview, I knew the job belonged to me. My thoughts: give me the job; stop procrastinating. April, May and June rolled by without a call for the third and final interview. Heartbroken, I interviewed elsewhere landing a part-time job that I could perform in my sleep as well as my adjunct position. Grateful to have two part-time jobs I forged ahead.
In August, while chaperoning a four-day youth retreat, I went home on day three to get a change of clothes. Once home, I noticed a light blinking on the answering machine. I dropped my knapsack to retrieve the message. The dean of academics said: “Angela if you’re still interested you’ve been considered for the temporary lecturer position.” Ecstatic I jumped and shouted in the living room. I called my mother and my best friend. God favored me.
The following week at the faculty meeting, I learned one of the tenure track professors unexpectedly resigned.
For the next three years, a continual paycheck, medical and dental benefits were my gift of grace because teaching had not been my preference, but God’s provision. I’d rather write full-time, however in the midst of a divorce I needed steady financial support.
Three years passed quickly, I grew accustomed to having my own office and a book expense as well as connecting with students. The classroom had become my stage. I had fun teaching and talking about writing at any English level—remedial, composition or literature. Some students called me “psycho,” while others referred to my class as “101 boot camp.” Simultaneously, many undergraduates were inspired to enroll in higher-level English classes and participate in writing contest. Moreover, my office hours metamorphosed into a safe haven for students as we chatted about writing assignments, the publishing world, divorce, Christianity, faith and relationships. They had nicknamed me Ms. B. If I spotted a student off campus, sometimes that student would walk right up to me and give me a hug.
So at the end of my three-contract, non-renewable, two tenure positions became available. My colleagues encouraged me to apply. Not only did I apply, I also applied at another college. Through the interview process I remained humble, reminding myself the competitors possessed doctoral degrees, literary publication, and twice my community college experience.
Coworkers, friends, and students spoke encouraging words; however, I discerned flattery from truth aware that some praise was for deceitful purposes. For example some colleagues wanted to know what I would do without this job, while others –-those also interviewing for the position–inquired how many call back interviews I had.
One interview. No callback. Two interviews. No callback. Heartbroken and bitter. Recommendations to return as an adjunct was not my preference. Instead I planned to live off my savings and write full-time. However, when I looked at my budget I could pay the rent, but not groceries, gas, and utilities. In addition, I had received eight rejection emails.
This place of bitterness turned rancid. Therefore I did what I knew best. I prayed. Lord, send me something to help.
A few days later, the head of the English department called and asked if I could teach two classes. I said yes recalling the adage: “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Still, I did not want an adjunct position. I questioned, God: “Are you sure? Don’t you have something else?”
God provided my needs. Cynicism coursed through my veins, like Job I loathe my life; I vented my complaint; spoke clearly about my innermost bitterness (Job 10:1). As a result, I followed the adjuncts rules: no office hours, no desk in the department, and no union or professional staff meetings.
My sour attitude spilled into the classroom. Only months, earlier students could enter my office to voice their concerns any day of the week. Now, my availability included email and class time, Tuesday and Thursday, only, not one minute extra. When class ended, I headed straight to the parking lot.
On days that I did not teach, I wrote six hours straight. I rationalized God’s provision believing if I taught five classes, I would not have time to write. However, during the past three years, I polished a novel, wrote a play, and shopped around a nonfiction proposal.
And then I heard these familiar words: “Are you holding on to something that God wants you to let go, so he can use you?” I embraced bitterness.
The following Tuesday, I quickly walked through the department to chat with a co-worker. The next week, I purposefully waltzed through conversing and sharing my new ventures with others whom I’d shared a meal with years before. Although I didn’t have office hours or an office, I dismissed class a few minutes early to allow students to discuss their concerns with me.
That place of bitterness reminded me: It’s not about me. And if I stood on God’s promises …[he] will meet all [my] needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus Philippians 4:19.
What about you? Has bitterness coursed through your veins?
9 thoughts on “In a Place of Bitterness”
When I ran the streets as an enemy of God, spending my years in riotous living, devastating my body and mind, I didn’t realize I was insane. When God opened my eyes to his glorious salvation and showed me how, in his mercy, he had kept me from so many dangers and ills for those tortuous 25 years, which had taken the lives of my contemporaries; it was a magnificent time of revelation for me. Walking with Jesus was sweet and life was, indeed, worth living. Unbeknownst to me, having my own agenda as to what my life should be like, I had no idea I was planting the seeds for my undoing. In order to bring me back to his holy reality, God had to remove all the props I depended on and saw as the vehicles for my success, i.e. health, marriage, money, security, etc., and replaced them with trouble that overwhelmed me to remind me that I was his slave; his child, and he had the right to do with me as he chose. And so, through all the hopelessness, dejection, despair, loneliness and frustration; my anger, resentment and bitterness towards him for putting me in that Job position, he eventually taught me to revel in his personal care. Growth is difficult and hard when one has always manipulated their circumstances and situations. He still sometimes has to remind me that his peace is always mine when I give him the prerogative to do as he chooses. Maturity comes from sharing “in the fellowship of his suffering” but he is the faithful God.
I appreciate your blog page Angela. It is a wonderful place for sincere reflection as God applies his “balm of Gilead” to the issues of of lives.
Oh, that balm is soothing when we remember God’s deliverance. Michael, thank you for sharing. What a mighty story: vivid and emotional. A Job-like position seems to be a place where God grabs our attention, stops us in our tracks, and reminds us He is on charge despite our plans. It’s awesome to be in his grace.
It is tempting not to become bitter when things don’t go the way we planned. Yet, when I find myself in bitterness, I pray as you did, because I know this is not where God wants me to stay. Bitterness takes its toll quickly. It can be poison for a believer.
Poison is an ideal description of bitterness. And how can a believer live abundantly if poisoned.
I had bitterness coarsing through my veins after becoming ill from my mold exposure at work. Bitterness that they didn’t believe I got sick there, bitterness that I took the job when I didn’t need to work and bitterness that my life was turned upside down forever. I no longer hold that bitterness in my heart. For those that didn’t and still don’t believe, there is nothing I can say that will change their hearts or their minds. Bitterness about taking the job is gone because I had no idea that it would lead to this and the bitterness about where I am now (life upside down) is working its way out of my heart and soul. I can’t be bitter forever. Life is for living not for drowning in sorrow. Thank you for a beautiful post Ang.
kmtreat, thank you for sharing your place of bitterness; going through and coming out. I wholeheartedly agree that life is not for drowing in sorrow. How many times do we let sorrow rule our lives stealing our joy. Live, love, and laugh.
Bitter, left home at seventeen after graduating high school in persute of a better life in n.y. A good job, a nice husband, a big house,and a happy, happy life. I never put God in the plan. What did I get at 68 years of age ( 1ex-husband, separated from another husband, two beautiful daughters,one the lord took home, a good job, a nice home. I am now retired, working in school helping children to read and write. It have been a long bitter journey, however God took me through that long wilderness journey to teach me a very important lesson. He (God) is in charge of every thing. And it’s all about him, not me. If I put him first in my life, and wait on him. He said wait wait. I have surrendered my intire life to God,and while I am in my waiting mode I am content believing,and trusting that God will give me what I need and most of what I want.
Susie, thank you for sharing your place of bitterness and belief. How awesome is the God we serve when we trust and believe his word.
Ang, go to http://www.awakenings2012.blogspot.com/2012/11/reality-blog-award.html where the Reality Award has been bestowed upon your website. Be sure to leave a comment to let me know you received the notification and hopefully accepted!
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