Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Mighty Mouse Syndrome (Part III): A Testimony

"Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always. Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced."

PSALM 105:1-5
To conclude this post series on Mighty Mouse Syndrome, I'd like to share the story of how God led me to my first career job (the position I still hold today). I felt led to record the details of this testimony as a sort of digital stone of remembrance (see Joshua 4:4-7).

Unqualified, Unprepared, & Unhappy

"This is a complete waste of time," I grumbled as my '94 Camry rolled along 30 West, the morning sun glistening on the Susquehanna to my left and right. It was the first time I crossed the dividing line from Lancaster County to York, and I was certain it would be one of my last.

In my final semester of college at Millersville University, I had my sights set on Harrisburg—not York. It was a class requirement that dragged me across Route 30 painfully early that morning. I was on my way to a portfolio review hosted by York College.

The inconvenient drive and the glare from the river weren't the only things that irked me on that trip, however.

I was mad at myself. The portfolio in my backseat wasn't prepared for a scrutinizing critique, and the only person I had to blame was sitting in the driver's seat, her chewed-up fingernails digging into the steering wheel.

Susquehanna River - Photo credit: http://luirig.altervista.org/
The portfolio work I'd pulled together represented an exasperated decision I'd made to switch majors in my senior year, from Art Education to Graphic Design. Although I only needed one more pedagogy class and student teaching to fulfill the course requirements to teach, I backed out and decided to become a designer instead.

Two factors led to the tough choice to switch majors:

(1) I'd been grappling with a sense of calling to ministry since childhood. I lacked the confidence to stick with Bible school, so I decided to pursue art teaching as a safer option. As graduation drew nearer, though, I didn't have peace about dedicating my life to teaching art. I realized that I needed to come away with a degree that would lead to a more 9-5 schedule than teaching, allowing more time for volunteering in ministry.

(2) In my junior year, I learned that art teaching jobs were nearly impossible to come by (in the wake of "No Child Left Behind" and the resulting cuts to specials programs in schools across the country). I had faith that God could open a door for me to teach despite the odds, but understanding the difficult job market was enough to tilt the scales for me in my decision making.

A graphic design degree seemed like a decent Plan B... at first. My boyfriend (later my husband, Chris) thought I might have some potential as a designer. Plus, the job market was better in that field, and the switch to graphic design still allowed me to graduate on time. That meant I could follow through with my plans to spend the upcoming summer wedding-planning and job-searching in the Harrisburg area (where Chris worked).

But there was one problem. I wasn't qualified for a design job.

Work from my early portfolio. Identity system and placemat.
Although I was able to eke out the course requirements for a Bachelor's Degree that stated I knew something about graphic design, in reality, I had only dedicated two semesters to that concentration. I was about to compete for a job against folks who'd lived and breathed design for four years or more. They had more software knowledge than I did and much more impressive portfolios by far, busting at the seams with work spanning from hand-coded web design, to print, and even 3D animation.

In contrast, my sad, anemic portfolio only contained print work from class assignments and some stuff I'd designed for my church in Lancaster—PowerPoint slides, a web page, posters, logos, and stationery. My professors weren't impressed with what I'd pulled together, and I knew the design professionals who were about to review my work in York wouldn't be impressed either. 

I might have had brighter spirits on my way to York that morning if there was even a slim chance that the reviewers were handing out jobs—but my professor assured us that they weren't. Most of the reviewers were solo freelancers or co-owners of small companies who couldn't afford to take chances on students with little experience. They were kindly volunteering their time to give their best advice to up-and-comers, and that was all we were to expect.

And that's why I was certain that the trip to York would be a waste of time. I was about to unzip my portfolio/my soul before these professionals and listen as they tore it all apart. The portfolio review would be worse than a waste of time. It would be depressing and painful...

That's the sort of negative self-talk that I rehearsed all along Route 30, until something in my spirit caused me to pause.

The Wimpy Prayer

I'd nearly arrived at my destination that morning when a question came to my heart: "Where is your faith?"

The voice wasn't audible, but it was loud and clear enough on the inside to interrupt my grumbling.

I quieted my heart and listened while I drove on.

Then came the challenge: "Stop worrying and pray."

Pray for what? I wondered.

"Pray for a job," came the answer.

I wish I could say that I pulled off to the side of the road at once and held a Spirit-filled prayer meeting, beseeching the Lord with all my faith to open the door for a job—but that's not what happened.

I ignored the challenge at first, but it came again, more specific this time: "Pray that you'll find a job at the portfolio review this morning."

To be honest, I wasn't sure if the inner-prompting was truly a spiritual thing or just a wacky surge of optimism from my own nutty head, but I gave in and prayed anyway. It was a feeble and distracted prayer as I followed Mapquest directions into York. It went something like this:
"God, I'm sorry for my bad attitude. I pray that the portfolio review won't be a waste of time for everyone this morning. I pray that the reviewers will give helpful feedback that we can apply to our work. I pray that at least one of us will even receive a job offer as a result of this event. And I pray that you'll help me find a job this summer too. Thank you. Amen."
Notice that I couldn't even work up the faith to pray that I would be the one to find a job that morning. It was a mustard-seed prayer of the weakest variety, for sure. But it was enough.

The Switcheroo that Changed Everything

When I arrived at the portfolio review, I signed in and drew three numbers from a jar. The numbers correlated to reviewers seated at numbered tables around the room. We would have a set amount of time with each reviewer and then gather our things and switch to the next reviewer at the sound of a whistle.

The first review went much as I expected. I sat across from a professional designer in her late-twenties who intimidated me before she even opened her mouth. She had that cosmopolitan designer look about her: edgy asymmetrical hair, gorgeous handmade-looking jewelry, and a bold, colorful blouse that coordinated with the branding on her business card.

I opened my portfolio, and she began to pick away, her bangle bracelets jangling on her dainty tan wrists as she described in articulate detail just what about my work screamed amateur. All of her advice basically amounted to a suggestion that I should start over. Nothing in my portfolio was good enough to present to a design agency. Not a thing.

I shared that I didn't really want to work for an agency anyway. I was hoping to design for a non-profit organization with a purpose that I felt passionate about (like a church, maybe). She smirked and wished me good luck finding a non-profit with the budget to pay a designer.

The whistle blew, and I thanked her. I also thanked God that I'd managed to keep my tears at bay.

I shuffled across the crowded room, brushing shoulders with other students toting their work, in search of the next reviewer whose number I'd drawn.

I was still in the middle of the room when a man tapped my shoulder and handed me a piece of paper with a different number.

"I'm sorry, but we have to switch things up a bit," he said. "Could you please take this number instead? I'm going to give the number you drew to another student."

I agreed and traded my number for the one in his hand. I figured the other student he mentioned was probably super talented and one of the designers was chomping at the bit to see his or her work.

Good for them, I shrugged. Maybe that's the student who'll get a job offer this morning.

I sat down for my next review and thought, "Just grit your teeth and bear it." The designer across the table had a nice smile, but I wasn't about to let my guard down. I knew he was going to pick up where the first reviewer left off, dissecting my work and hacking away at my hopes for a career.

But to my surprise, that's not how it went.

He was kind. He was patient. He told me to take a breath while I apologized for all the flaws that the first reviewer had pointed out.

When we got to the pieces I'd done for my church, he smiled and asked a lot of questions about my process and some of the design decisions I'd made. He gave me some helpful suggestions, which I jotted down in my notebook. Then he gave me something else to jot down. 

There was a design internship available at his church.

He didn't work there, but he'd been in touch with the lady on staff in charge of design.

"You've probably heard of Living Word Community Church," he said. "It's a really big church here in York."

I hadn't heard of it. I was from Lancaster, and my next stop was Harrisburg. York wasn't on my radar.

"I think the internship at Living Word would be great for you," he encouraged. "It's just for the summer, but it'll give you some real-world experience and I'm sure you'll come away with some great pieces to beef up your portfolio. You'll be a good fit for them too, since you're a Christian and you get churchy stuff."

I thanked him and wondered if the number switcheroo could have been a God thing. The internship seemed like a good opportunity. Still, I was on the fence about whether or not I'd apply. I had a busy summer ahead of me, and I thought driving to York for an internship that had no promise of leading to a job might become more stressful than helpful.

My attitude shifted a bit on the ride back to Lancaster, though. I didn't get a job offer—I wasn't expecting one anyway—but someone thought I was good enough for an internship, and that was something to be thankful for. I decided to apply.

Mighty Mouse to (Nearly) Ruin the Day

I had mixed emotions when I received a phone call from Living Word, sharing the news that I'd been selected for the internship. I was happy for the opportunity, but I was also anxious about adding something new to my plate.

I had a wedding to plan (a big fat Italian one), an apartment in Harrisburg to search for, and then there was that problem of finding a job. 

I used "I" and not "we" (including my fiance, Chris) in that last sentence because my Mighty Mouse mentality was set on assuming ALL the responsibility for those huge tasks. I know now that Chris would have gladly stepped up to help more if I would have just given him permission to do so. But my pride wouldn't allow for that. I'd convinced myself that he was doing his part by earning a salary as a multimedia designer. It was up to me to make myself useful and take care of everything else.

Besides all the planning for my future, Mighty Mouse was also on a planning committee for a week-long outreach project in Harrisburg, scheduled for mid-July. 

I felt myself buckling under all the pressure even before I hung up with the communications lady from Living Word. I considered turning down the opportunity. But instead, I asked if she'd allow me to postpone my start date for a few weeks. If I could have a some time to put the outreach event behind me, as well as design and mail my wedding invites and job resumes, I'd be in a better head-space to start the internship.

Thankfully, Living Word consented to my request. I sat down at a cubicle in the church office for the first time on Monday, July 21, 2008.

Long Story Short

Nearly seven years later, I'm still designing graphics at Living Word Community Church. God answered my mustard-seed prayer. Hallelujah!

Here's how it all came about:

July 2008 - I began the summer internship at Living Word

August 2008 - Living Word restructured staff responsibilities, and a job opportunity opened up for a graphic designer. Church leadership didn't feel I was qualified for the position at the time, but they asked if I'd stay on board to help with graphics until they made a hire. I gladly accepted, as I hadn't received any bites yet on the resumes I'd sent out.

Fall 2008 - I created a brochure for Living Word's spiritual direction program, which received good reviews. I added it to my portfolio and continued to send out resumes.

I also heard back from one marketing agency in Harrisburg, which asked if I'd take on a sample project so they could assess my skills. I wasn't enthusiastic about working for an ad agency, but with a month to go before my wedding, I didn't have the luxury to be picky.

November 6, 2008 - (Only 3 weeks before our wedding day.) To my complete surprise, Living Word offered me the job. Yay God!

And that's not all...
July 2011 - My handsome and talented husband joined our staff in 2011. We get to collaborate on projects and eat lunch together.

But wait, there's more...
Today - Our communications team at church has expanded to a 6-person operation. I couldn't be more thankful for each of my teammates and for an entire family of staff who inspire me to be a better designer, and a truer follower of Christ.

As a matter of fact, Living Word has been a tremendous blessing to my whole family. Karen absolutely loves Sunday mornings in kid::life, and Ethan seems to think the infant nursery is a happenin' place. My parents have also begun attending classes and the Sunday morning service. Staff and ministry partners have shown them an abundance of love and kindness, which has helped them to feel at home here in York.

God is so amazing. I had no idea that a drive to York could possibly lead to the beautiful sense of community that my family now enjoys through Living Word.

In one sense, I'm flabbergasted that God answered my mustard seed prayer. But then again, why wouldn't He? I wanted with all my heart to serve Him in ministry. God had placed that desire in me. He had a plan, and like the Divine Author He is, He made a way for it to happen. I know He's still writing my story, placing big dreams in my heart for the next chapter, just as I'm sure He's doing for you.

In closing, I'd like to share the same challenge with you that came to my heart on that car ride to York:

Where is your faith? Stop worrying and pray.

Remember, you don't have to struggle and strive with only the Mighty Mouse strength within you. Be bold and unashamed as you ask, seek, and knock (see Luke 11:8-10). Don't let anxiety ruin your joy. Pray, give thanks, and know that God will grant you unimaginable peace and guidance when you come to him for help (see Philippians 4:4-7).


“... Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” –Matthew 17:20