Chosen or Loser?

I love watching award shows. I'm a sucker, not just because I'm somewhat obsessed with entertainment, but because the actors that have become characters on screen that have reached into my emotions and pulled something out are receiving acknowledgment for being my vicarious heroes. My favorite speeches are always the ones where the least expected gets the award. The actor or actress attempting to give a speech in the midst of authentic shock has always had a place in my heart.

This week, I got a job. And I felt like what Sarah Jessica Parker said accepting her first Emmy for Sex and the City, "I've never won anything in my life!" Although getting a job is a far cry from getting a Grammy or Oscar, I had a realization about why I find the underdog speech so compelling: I completely relate. In the week leading up to my hearing from my prospective employer, I found myself rationalizing every reason why I wouldn't get the job. I wondering if I wanted it enough for God to want to give it to me. I kept remembering the other two companies that seemed so positive about me, then let me know I wasn't selected in the end. I reminded myself how bad the job market is and how great the competition now -- where good friends of mine with great talent and experience are still jobless.

So when I got the phone call and the deal was sealed a day later, it forced the shock to the surface. Why was it so suprising to me that I would get something I wanted and needed? As I think about this question, I look over the last five months of this year with gratefulness and more than a little awe. There are many reasons why I know this year will stand out as a landmark year in my life. Beginning with great tragedy and grief that will continue to linger in some form always, I also found myself just a few months ago in a transitional void: no job, no gigs, no forseeable end to my singleness. But not even halfway through the year, I find that two of those three areas in my life are extravagantly provided for -- by no control or orchestration of my own.

It is difficult to see myself in general as someone chosen. This last key area of my life -- of the three, the biggest area of issues and failure in my life historically -- is one where that holds particularly true. But as I thank God ("the Academy," if we're going with the analogy) for taking care of me when I least expected it, I can start to hope that just maybe I am also the girl that gets the guy in the end.