To every thing there is a season

When I was approaching graduation, I was trying to figure out what I was going to do. I knew I didn't want to move back to Arizona, even though that was the most logical decision. I hate the heat. I was afraid of losing all of the progression I've made in discovering who I am and learning about to assert myself, by going straight back to my family, where I often feel like I'm treated like a kid sister who is 15, rather than someone who has lived on their own for the majority of her life since graduating high school. Also, I hate the heat.

So, I started looking at options for staying in Rexburg. I discovered a job at the Juvenile Corrections Center in St. Anthony, a small town just 20 minutes from Rexburg. It sounded perfect for what I wanted to do. I wanted to work with at-risk youth, and juvenile delinquents are pretty much as at-risk as you can get. The pay was way better than anything I had made as a student, it offered benefits - which, like, I understand most full-time jobs offer, but your homegirl just went 7 years without health insurance, so literally any health benefits sounded like a million dollars - and it didn't sound like a place where kids were just locked up in a cell all day.

So, I started making plans. I quickly found a place to live. I started applying for jobs like crazy - obviously the one in St. Anthony being the first one I applied for - and, went to the Lord. I prayed so flipping hard. I wanted to do what He needed me to do. I wanted to be where He needed me to be. But...I also wanted to stay in Idaho and work at the JCC. So, I asked if this would fit into His plans.

Sometimes, the Lord is patient with us. Sometimes, He gives us what we ask for, simply because we want it. I got the job. I felt God's love for me profoundly during that time. I felt, so strongly, that the only reason why I was hired was because I wanted it.

I've worked there for two years. It definitely isn't an easy job. Some nights, I would cry on the drive home, just because it was such a rough time. Some nights, I would drive home with my heart bursting, because I felt so much love for those kids. Some nights, I would drive home, angry at parents for not protecting their kids.

Tonight, I cried on my drive home, because I said goodbye to it. I cried over saying goodbye to kids who have sworn at me and disrespected me. But I also cried over saying goodbye to those same kids who have come to trust me and see me as someone who was always in their corner. I cried over saying goodbye to coworkers who have helped me, listened to me, shared their food with me, shown me compassion, supported me, and cared about me. I cried because the last time I felt this way about a group of people I had my missionary nametag on. The feeling I had walking to my car was very similar to the feeling I had getting on that plane to leave Washington. I was so excited to see my family again, but if God had asked me to, I would have run off that plane in an instant to continue the work. Ever since making the decision to move back to Arizona, I have been looking for ANY sign to keep me here. I'm still looking for some reason to call my boss and tell him I was going to come into work tomorrow.

In all honesty, I had been fighting the prompting to move back to Arizona for a long time. I was talking to one of my coworkers about some stuff going on in my family. I mentioned that I hated not being there for all of it. She asked me if I ever thought about moving back. I just kind of scoffed and was like, "ABSOLUTELY NOT." I've become a very different person than the Beth Root that used to live in Arizona. Especially in the past two years. The Beth Root that lived in Arizona would honestly be appalled at who I am now. I was afraid of losing who I've become, because even though I have some scars and I'm definitely way more rough around the edges, I also am much more compassionate, confident, understanding, and much less judgemental. I love who I have become. Who I am seemed incompatible with Arizona.

But, ever since that conversation, the thought of moving back to Arizona wouldn't leave me. It was constantly in the back of my mind. (I don't know if you read my blogs, but if you do, I'm definitely blaming you, Kjerstin, for being the one to put the thought in my head. You only have yourself to blame for me leaving.)

A few months ago, I finally couldn't ignore it. So I went to the Lord. And...He said Arizona.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 (a cursed verse for many a missionary) says:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

The thought that I keep having is that God gave me these two years because I asked for them and because there was no reason to tell me no. I was going to be doing good work, and the work that was going to be done on me was going to be way more refining than anything else I had experienced. But, He always intended for me to end up back in Arizona, at least for a time.

My time in Idaho is up. Even though I have begged Him to tell me to stay. He gave me two extra years - which have been the best two years of my time in Idaho. Ugly, hard, heart-wrenching, lonely, and eye-opening. But, by far, the best.

It makes me sad that my JCC St. Anthony season is over, but it was, in all reality, a gift from God. We'll see what my Arizona season brings me (other than sunburns and heat stroke).