The week had only just started, but already it was not going according to plan. It wasn’t even 9:00 a.m. Monday morning and already we had tried breaking into our house, failed, and were now sitting at McDonald’s eating pesto and scrambled egg wraps and waiting …
Maybe a few questions are coming to mind right now. First of all, why had we tried to break into our own house? And why was it such a bad morning if we were sitting eating breakfast at McDonald’s? There is one very good explanation for all of this: I had an interview for a job as a receptionist for an office building. This isn’t how I usually like to start the day when I have an important job interview; that day, I had no choice.
The weekend before had been a family camp out for the Brisbane congregation of the Philadelphia Church of God. Mom and I had left the campsite a few hours earlier than everyone else so that I could prepare for my interview. I had graduated high school only about a month before and had been looking for a full-time job ever since.
The trip home went smoothly, but when we arrived, it didn’t take long for us to realize that we were stuck. The only key to the security screen door was two hours away with Dad. While my hand was small enough to fit through the holes in the metal on the screen door, it was no good. (It turns out that getting your hand back out of a screen door is a lot more difficult than sliding it in. For a second there, I thought I would have to go to my interview with a screen door on my wrist!) Despite all my efforts, it was impossible to unlock the door from the outside. Sadly for us, security doors do actually prevent someone from breaking in.
We spent the next few minutes circling the house and looking for any other ways to gain entry. There were none. Next, we tried to work out how I could iron some crumpled clothes that were stuffed away in my suitcase from the weekend camp out. It was pointless. I could go in the outfit I had worn to Sabbath services, but I still needed all my paperwork that was safely stored away in the house.
After Mom called Dad, they decided that the best idea was to wait for our Real Estate Agent to open their shop windows, ask if they had a spare key that we could borrow, dash home, get ready, and then rush to the interview. This was exactly what we did, but until then, we enjoyed a nice breakfast while waiting patiently for 9:00 a.m. to roll around.
All this done, we were finally pulling up for my interview. It was an old brick building, nearby to the hub of the city, but far enough away that it felt slightly secluded. The large metal gate stood open, but a black fence surrounded the property.
This was not the fancy office building I had imagined walking into, but I was here now. Nerves or no nerves, fancy or not, I would do this interview. The interview ended up going really well. The interviewer was a friendly woman who made me feel at ease. As I walked out, she assured me that she would call later that day to inform me whether I would be offered the job.
Returning to the car, I told Mom how it all went, but that I really wasn’t sure whether I wanted this job or not. I knew very little about it, and I got very nervous. The whole family had been praying for the right job since the day I started looking, and again we decided to leave it in God’s hands. If He wanted me to have the job, I would have the job.
It had been a long weekend, and now, after the events of that morning, it had already been a long week. Lying down for a nap a few hours after arriving home, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing at full volume.
With a very croaky ‘morning’ voice in the middle of the afternoon, I answered the phone. As soon as the woman on the phone responded, I realized that it was my interviewer from earlier that day. Trying hard to wake up fast, I said hello and asked her how she was. Responding, she asked me how I was. I responded—and then promptly asked her how she was again. Oops! This waking up thing obviously wasn’t going too well. As soon as I asked her how she was the second time, I realized what I had done, but it was too late now. I had blown it already. She stumbled for a second. By the time she recovered, I was so annoyed with myself that I was shocked when the next sentence left her mouth: “We would like to offer you a job.”
Discussing it with my parents after the call, I broke down crying. I didn’t think that I wanted this job. I didn’t really know why I didn’t want this job, but the appearance of the building and the whole prospect of a new job intimidated me—it was really pretty pathetic! My thinking was that it would have been so much easier if I hadn’t been offered the job in the first place.
My parents were great. They looked at all the facts with me, reviewed the contract, and went through all the options. Everything looked good. They reminded me that we had prayed about this and that it seemed obvious that God was opening this door for me. Unlike the security door from earlier that day that had refused to open against all my strength, this door refused to stay closed despite my every desire that it would.
I accepted the job, knowing that my parents were right. I had the most amazing time working there. It was so much better than I thought! The building may not have been the most inviting, but the people were great! The work environment was fun, encouraging and there was always a positive push to achieve more. I was actually shocked by how good the job really was.
From the day I arrived to the day I left, I felt so welcomed. On my first day, they took me out for lunch. In the months that followed, I’ve never had so many barbecues as I had there with my work colleagues. (I know that was Australia, but still…) And on my last day, they hosted me a small party with food, flowers, cards and every encouragement for the college life I would be pursuing.
Since leaving that workplace, I have realized more and more how much of a blessing and an open door that job was. In the jobs that I have had since starting college, I have seen where the training in this job was so useful. It also provided me with the means to be able to make it to Herbert W. Armstrong College.
I can now see clearly that this job was an open door. I had asked God for a job, and He had given me one.
I learned what Matthew 7:7-8 promises. I had asked, and God had given; I had sought it, and God had shown me where to find it; I had knocked, and God had opened the door. Although I would have liked to have closed this door at the time, I am so thankful that God did not let me. It’s hard sometimes, but I realized how important it is to just trust God for those answered prayers. When God opens those doors, no matter what, we walk through them, knowing that the blessings will continue for years to come.