A Love Letter to My Village

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how, when tough things happen to us, it helps to know our anchors, the things that help us remain steady in the day-to-day. What I didn’t know as I entered a space I’ve never before inhabited—the abrupt ending of a job—was how much my village of people would be one of those anchors. I have been amazed and heartened by the care, encouragement, support, and advocacy of people in the industry in which I’ve worked for nearly two decades.

I guess sometimes it takes a situation like this for you to find out just how much people believe in you and value your gifts and skills. How they will willingly and even gladly go before you and get behind you, just like Jesus. Not that I wish a situation like mine on anyone simply so they can find this out. But I have to acknowledge that God knows all things and works in all things, and he has shown me so much love and grace through people.

The past several weeks have been peppered with calls, emails, coffees, meals, and good conversations with all kinds of people. Old friends and acquaintances. People I’ve worked with as colleagues and people I’ve never actually met in person. People who have experienced their own job losses and people who have experienced tremendous success in their careers. It’s been both humbling and heartening and has given me the strength and clarity to keep doing the next thing.

People have sent me freelance work, referred coaching clients, said “Let me connect you with so-and-so—use my name,” offered to be references, shared business insights and materials, sent job postings, and said meaningful words. Each and every instance has been a gift, and I’m so grateful for this village I didn’t know was there, shining its lights out over the waters of uncertainty, reminding me that the shoreline is near.

This is why relationships matter, and it’s why we must not neglect kindness and compassion in our interactions with others. When we have been cast out to sea in a boat alone, we will need that village with its softly lit windows to guide us toward shore, just as we need Jesus to come to us on the water, walking on the waves, speaking to calm the wind.

Calm seas and steady lights to you, friends.