Today is my 8th anniversary at
Compassion.
Eight years. It's hard to believe I've worked here for almost a third of my life. It's getting the point where it's hard to remember life before Compassion, actually.
A little background for you ...
I spent the last semester of college living in downtown Chicago. I was an intern in the event planning department at the
National PTA. As the weeks wound down towards graduation, I thought more and more about what was next. I considered many options, but moving back to Colorado Springs was
not one of them. I had this idea in my head that moving back to the city I grew up in was somehow a cop-out. So I applied for jobs all over the country - FL, CA, WA, IL, MI - basically everywhere
but Colorado.
I didn't get a single job offer. Not one. Finding a job long distance is very difficult. Finding a job in event planning with very limited experience, is virtually impossible. As the rejection letters continued to come, I resigned myself to the fact that I had to add "Moving back in with Mom and Dad" to the list of options.
So I graduated and moved back to Colorado. I spent the next six months applying for all sorts of event-type jobs here. I applied at many different non-profits and ministries. I went to dozens of interviews. All of them told me the same thing - something I'm sure every college graduate dreads - they really wanted someone with more experience.
In November, I began working at a local coffee shop. Four days into that job, I got a call from Compassion. (Unbeknownst to me, they had kept my resume from an earlier job that I applied for and hadn't gotten.) They asked me to come interview for an assistant job. Desperate for anything that paid more than minimum wage, I was ecstatic. I interviewed with HR, and then a few days later with the managers I'd be assisting. Finally, I got a call.
It was only when I accepted the job offer and asked more about the job that I found out that I'd be assisting the
event managers in the marketing department.
So you see,
that is how I know God called me here.
That is why I've stayed here for eight years. As it turns out, event planning is not for me. But Compassion is and, of course, God knew that. In those eight years I've changed positions. I've changed departments. I've changed teams. I've changed desks. Through it all I've fallen in love with this place and what God is doing here. I'm in
a position now that fits my gifts and calling so perfectly that it could only be God.
I don't know what He has planned for me in the future. I'd like to live somewhere else, eventually. Maybe even another country. What I
do know, though, is that for today, this is where He's called me.
I love this ministry. I love my job. And I feel
so blessed.
We met a German couple who studied butterflies. Chris liked their nets.
Once we arrived, we found a spot along the river without fishermen (this is harder than it sounds in that area) and let the dogs play.
Havana LOVES the water and will fetch anything. Anywhere. Anytime.
Orsa had to build up her courage in the fast-moving current, but loved fetching the ball.
Bella just bathes. And never, ever gets her tail wet.
Saturday morning we went for an early morning hike. It was gorgeous.
The view from our cabin.
We stopped at Taylor Reservoir on the way home.
I set the self-timer, but the autofocus was apparently in the wrong spot. Lame. I like this picture anyway, even if it's blurry. (I really should learn how to use my camera better.)
Looks like a fake backdrop. But, of course, it's not.
Good job, God!
