The Slow Change

I remember being a little girl walking into my Daddy's home office. He would have a stack of papers waiting for me to sort, alphabetize, and file away. For all that work I got paid - a happy meal, which later turned to $10 as the years went on. Never would I call the work fun, but is was calming and therapeutic for me and although not fun it was enjoyable.

At 17 my first "grown up" job was at a small doctor's office doing clerical work, answering phones, stocking needles, loading up on band aids, sorting charts for the day, and making mailing lists in excel.

At 19 a local painting company hired me to be their office manager, within a few months their system was paperless and all expenses were able to be tracked electronically.

So at 21 when a full-time office assistant job opened up at a local radio station, how could I not take it. It was second nature for me to sit at a desk and keep the office organized.

With my passion for kids completely off the table it was the next most natural thing for me to do. So I took the job and was as happy as could be, for the first two years. To this day I still love my (then) co-workers, the place of employment, and everyone surrounding that place. It will always feel like home when walking through those front doors.

Yet when my friends started sharing their need for child-care with me something about my office work seemed less important. Not that it was, not that anything I or others did there wasn't (isn't) great and needed and crazy important in keeping that station running smoothly, but for my life it got knocked down a rung on the importance scale. As the months went on the once calming and enjoyable office work became for tedious and daunting.

Mix that with an inner stirring, a knowing that God was going to call me away, but just waiting for the when and where - something was happening in me. I started looking at different options, but none of them felt right. The top of my list was a flight attendant (hey the job has always interested me), followed by moving to Salt Lake with my brother, or Nashville with a friend.

Then I started looking at Montana or Wyoming, the child-hood desires to live there was still nestled softly in my heart.

Before any of those options became viable I saw a need in my own backyard. A need for more than just once a week child-care for MANY of the families around me. But how could I charge for child-care when most of the families I would wanted to help couldn't afford it, anyone with kids knows child-care is not cheap, even at the cheapest level. I couldn't leave a full-time job that paid the bills for a less then part-time idea that certainly wouldn't.

The day-care idea got put on hold, the needs around me and the desire to move west didn't (by west I mean Utah or Montana, not the coast). I kept waiting, kept praying, seeing what would land on my lap.

Then March 4, 2013 came around...

 

 Stayed tuned for what March 4th brought to this blogger. 

CECONNER ©5.5.2014