A New Horizon

This has been an interesting past six weeks.

I have applied to dozens of jobs. I have updated my resume more times than I can count. I have exhausted my savings, maxed out my credit cards, and tried my best not to let rejection discourage me.

And honestly, that has not been easy.

I am grateful for the opportunities and experiences I have gained in this season. I can say that with a full heart. Was it worth it? Yes. Was it easy? Not at all.

This season has given me a glimpse of the many avenues I could take in public health and ministry. It has shown me that the work I feel called to is not just about a title, a position, or even personal achievement. It is about service. It is about helping people live healthy lives — physically, spiritually, and emotionally. The more I learn, the more I realize that my service is not for me alone. It is for the people, communities, and spaces God has called me to impact.

But the road to get there has been filled with challenges, setbacks, and distractions.

One of the hardest things is wanting something so badly, sensing God say “not yet” or “no,” and still trying to be at peace with it. I have seen many jobs I believed I could steward well. Roles that felt aligned with my skills, my experience, my education, and my heart for people. But for whatever reason, God has not opened those doors yet. Maybe He has something greater. Maybe He is still positioning me. Maybe He is doing something in me before He places me somewhere new.

That waiting period is where I struggle the most.

I am used to being chosen. I am used to being sought after. I am used to being seen as the obvious choice. But now, I am in new territory. My accomplishments, experience, and work ethic have carried me far, but lately, they have only been getting me so far. My faith is being stretched in ways I did not expect. Some days it feels like new heights. Other days, it feels like new lows.

It is funny how I can be seen as a fixer, yet I cannot fix this myself.

That has been humbling.

A transition like this requires discipline. It requires faith. It requires still showing up when you are tired, still applying when you are discouraged, still revising when you feel overlooked, and still believing when the evidence around you feels uncertain. As I walked into my 33rd year of life, I could not help but think about Jesus and the beginning of His earthly ministry. Thirty-three holds weight. It reminds me of purpose, sacrifice, obedience, and transition. I cannot imagine what He felt knowing what was ahead, while still choosing to live fully in the moment and do what He was sent to do.

That speaks to me deeply in this season.

Because sometimes the transition itself is the ministry.

Sometimes the waiting is shaping you. Sometimes the rejection is redirecting you. Sometimes the closed door is not punishment, but protection. And sometimes God is building a deeper kind of confidence in you, one that is not dependent on being chosen by people, but rooted in being called by Him.

This season has been exhausting, but I am learning not to confuse a waiting season with a wasted season. I am not just throwing applications into the dark. I am building toward something. Every resume revision, every interview preparation, every application, every prayer, every disappointment, and every small step forward is still part of the process.

I was reminded recently to keep my faith, but to keep my hands moving too. Pray, prepare, revise, apply, follow up, and let God handle the part I cannot control.

Faith does not mean pretending rejection does not hurt. It does not mean acting like uncertainty is easy. Faith means refusing to let rejection become my identity. A closed door does not mean I am unqualified. Sometimes it means the timing is not right. Sometimes it means the fit was not right. Sometimes it means God is still positioning me.

But when the right door opens, I want to be ready to walk through it with confidence, not fear.

So I am choosing to keep going.

I am choosing to apply with faith, prepare with discipline, and not talk myself out of doors I have every right to knock on.

This season may be hard, but it is not wasted.

God is still working.

And so am I.