A friend told me a story about how he had applied for a job a long way from home. His potential new employer had said they were going to make a very attractive offer. My friend and his wife began discussing selling their home and moving their kids to a new school. It was certain to happen and then…it didn’t. The job offer never came. His calls to the new employer to get an answer or a simple explanation went unanswered. “I’ve been in business a long time,” he said, “and no one had ever disrespected me like that before.” He had already left his former employer and was now jobless. He was crushed and wondered what he was going to do.
Over lunch my friend told me the business he was now a part of was about to sell and some of the sale would come his way. The new role had been a perfect fit for him. His talents soared there, his skills were cherished, and his team had come to not only rely on him, but to really like him. It was the best job he’d ever had, he told me.
“What about the other job? The one they never called you back?” I asked. “It was a God-stop,” he said. “That’s the only explanation I have.”
A God-stop where a part of the Master’s plan is to firmly close the door on what we thought was certain, a divine interruption. No explanation can be offered other than the supernatural. How many God-stops have each of us had? Lots, I suspect, and in hindsight, they’re always for the best.
My focus in such instances is too often on what didn’t happen. The narrative I had created in my mind of what I wanted, of what I thought was certain, was beautiful. It was leading me to the land of milk and honey. I struggle to focus on what might now happen because I was so embedded in narrative I had created. Perhaps this new destination will be even greater.
If we lived in the now, as countless sages have told us we should for millennia, God-stops would never cause a problem. If we could manage our imagination, God-stops wouldn’t feel like disappointment. Instead, we – or at least I - live in the future with a runaway imagination and I often struggle whenever my plans meet a God stop. I focus on the door that’s just closed instead of stepping back to find a new door that’s standing wide open.
The goal, I guess, is to recognize the moment for what it is. It’s not failure. It’s not a loss. It’s a God-stop, and somewhere an open door is waiting for me.
I’m Cam Marston, and I’m just trying to Keep it Real.
