Promotions

   I didn't know success would be bitter.
   Last week, my company sent out an email--two positions were opening, Team Leaders for the entire department. I'm currently a Customer Service Rep., one of those with minimal authority and maximum interaction with customers (the lack of the first probably explains having the latter). The coworker I eat with every day looked at me and said "You're applying, right?" Her tone didn't imply the question mark. Coming back to my desk later that day, another coworker emailed me, telling me apply. I walked by the second coworker later, and she told me to get busy. The lady beside her asked, busy with what? Apply for the job--and the other lady agreed I should apply.
  I stayed fifteen minutes late that day, on a conference call with a customer and a bank, where a payment had been made electronically and returned, and another payment had been mailed through online bill pay. We had to sort it out. I'd asked for a ride earlier; I was sick enough I didn't think I could make my usual five-block-walk. My boss drove me home. I mentioned the job, and she said "I've noticed you haven't applied yet!" She's not the only one who will select the leader...but I have a good chance of getting the job.
   If I apply.
   I've never wanted to be a manager. I'd rather have my words weighted by my character than my position. This is not--exactly--a manager's position. I would enjoy at least 75% of it. It would look great on an resume (assuming I get the job). It might have better pay. It would make work a lot less boring. It might be more fulfilling. I'd get to know more. I'd have more practice for teaching.
   But...success is lonely. Authority is lonely. And I would struggle with its twin tigers--pride and despondency. Pride, at being promoted. Frustration and self-annilation, the side effects of a perfectionist doing an impossible job. They tear my heart, deep scratches, just as a lowly rep. Could I even handle the weight of doing a manager's job well? Do I want that fight in my life?
   I'm listening to Job's song, "Broken Praise" by Todd Smith, singing "how many more will wander past, / and find me sitting in this ash? / Will you hold me, will you stay, / so I can raise / this broken praise / to you? / But you were the one who filled my cup / and you were the one who let spill, / so blessed be  / your holy name / if you never fill it up again; / if this where my story ends / just give me one more breath to say, / hallelujah!"
   God, I didn't ask for a promotion. I asked that you would change my attitude towards a mundane job. God, I didn't ask for success, either, or to be better than others, and I don't know what to do. Is this your will? Could I do this well, to your glory? Can I do this with humility? Do you want me to apply, to conquer fear, and be turned down, one clear leading? Do you want me to work out what it is to be a team leader, to help define that for the company? I don't know what battles may be coming! I don't know if I am supposed to do this!
   Fear, running through those words. Why? Has not my God proved he will provide, in all circumstances? He provided when I had nothing, why do I fear to trust him when he hands me success?
   Perhaps because I am not used to it. Or perhaps, because I would rather be a child, with an influence that I do not feel, so I do not hold my words or actions as weight.
   But I want to change the world, and sometimes grow frustrated by doing so only through prayer. Is this not what I wanted, to be used for him? If he wants to do that through success, is not his plan better?
   God, I do not see anything but the weight of this job, far weighting the scales above the benefits. But I promise this, that I will do your will, to all my ability, for the taste of your kingdom is sweet, no matter how hard to swallow. Keep my eyes open, my heart fearless, my will obedient, my spirit joyful. I ask this as your daughter--a sinner, guilty, wretched, weak, but also redeemed, perfect, righteous, covered with the blood of Christ and able to come to the throne of mercy. I ask this of a God who walked with David as a shepherd and a king, who redeemed him when he feel asleep herding sheep and when he sinned for a year leading the precious people of God. Your grace is not measured by how righteous your children are, but by the depths of your forgiveness for sinners. Forgive my fear--I had no reason. Forgive my hesitation, and grant me wisdom. I would know where to go from here, and I trust you to lead me. May everything in my life be to your glory, all things, surrendered to you. Your will be done. In the name of Christ, amen.