“Do you know the specialty of this floor?”

My first thought was, I don’t really care. I just want a job.

But that’s not necessarily what your prospective manager wants to hear in an interview…

I was a new graduate nurse. I had already sat for many interviews. At the time, I was still a little heart broken that my dream unit, a pediatric oncology floor, hadn’t given me a call back. I tried to say “I don’t know.” in the most intelligent way I could muster to their question… I left out the part about not really caring.

The manager responded, “This is a general surgery and plastic surgery floor.”

It was everything I could do to not fall out of my chair.

Throughout nursing school, I became more and more intrigued by this organization called Mercy Ships. I heard about it from a friend in college and at first… it sounded nuts. A hospital ship that just parks in a port for ten months taking surgical patients? That’s crazy! Living on a boat off the coast of Africa? No way!

But the more I researched about the work Mercy Ships did… it was not only creative, but responsible. Their capacity building projects were having real and exciting results in the countries that they worked in. The ten month field services were long enough to provide much needed aid and education without creating dependency. The quality of care could remain high on a mostly self sustained ship without burdening the countries that they served.

But I didn’t know anything about surgery… I really hadn’t given the specialty enough thought to decide if I liked the idea or not.

But somehow without knowing, I’d applied for and gotten an interview with the best job I could think of to prepare for serving with Mercy Ships. In the middle of this interview, the intentionality of God’s plan hit me like a ton of bricks.

Oh my God, You’re serious, was the only thought I could muster.

I stuttered and stumbled through a sentence or two in conversation until finally the manager offered to give me a minute to collect my thoughts. (Gracious woman and fast friend.) Despite the fact that for a few moments I couldn’t function in the interview, they offered me the job working on the General Surgery and Plastic Surgery unit.

And I took it.

“Just so we’re clear, we’re recruiting for a Director of Nursing and we’re talking with you so… that’s what we’re hoping for.”

The organization’s directors were so earnest as they looked at me through the computer screen… it felt pretty obvious they already made their side of the decision. They prayed over this need and felt like I was the right fit.

It was everything I could do to not fall out of my chair.

Just the opportunity to go back to West Africa… to be near to the people, patients, and friends I missed so much was a startling joy. When I left, I tried to accept the idea that I may never go back. When I was introduced to this new opportunity, I was elated to have a way to keep a connection and continue giving in some small way to the children I loved. When they suggested that coming to West Africa on a short term visit was an option, I was ecstatic!

If I’m being honest, before I went to on my first job abroad, I kind of thought that Mercy Ships would be my “big calling”. Like I would go and learn and love and serve and maybe end up staying for a year or so… but that’s it. That would be the extent of it. I couldn’t imagine farther than Mercy Ships… Mercy Ships was a big dream already.

But this opportunity is longer… more rooted… with more responsibility. I instantly came up with a bunch of concerns for why I might not be such a good idea for this, but somehow each of my perceived shortcomings were seen as well placed open spaces for learning what you simply can’t know or prepare for here in the States. God’s intentionality started to seem more and more clear.

So I said yes.

Bad news and grim predictions have been so easy to fall into these days… really it’s been practically shoved down our throats.

But new babies, a great job opportunity, the right home. Unexpected twists and turns that might seem scary or frustrating at the time, but work out to be just right.

Remembering these stories gives me hope that sometimes God’s plans are so big…

His dreams so beautiful…

That when He finally reveals it…

It’s hard to keep your butt from fallin’ out of the chair.