Those are big, philosophical questions (for later blog posts), but for now let's talk about them in the practical sense.
I am a librarian & teacher, who moved to Central Oregon about a year and a half ago to help take over the family ranch. In 2020, during the Covid lockdowns, I was stuck at home (who wasn't?) with nothing to do (I had been working in a kindergarten classroom at the time). Dad texted and asked if I would help with the family business (selling our locally raised beef).
At that time, I had been job hunting for about 10 months - I had gotten my MLIS in August 2019 and was looking for work in a university or public library. 32 job applications and only 1 phone interview made for a discouraging 10 months, to say the least.
The Beef Biz was all remote work - working on the website, texting customers, coordinating and scheduling deliveries, and working with our ranch manager, who did all the on-site work. Easy peasy. For the next couple years, I worked at the school by day and worked for the ranch by night.
Ranch hands and managers came and went. One employee managed to wipe out our bank account. I would have to take phone calls to employees, customers, and HR consultants during my breaks and in between teaching classes. Despite being in a fun and easy job - working near full-time in an elementary library - I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to be on the ranch. If something went wrong, I could just go take care of it myself instead of having to stress and coordinate people over the phone.
I pitched the idea of me moving to Central Oregon to Dad and it only took him one clarifying question before he said, "deal!"
In July 2022, I moved back to the family ranch. Dad, who'd been going through a divorce at the time, was living in his childhood home - a 1,200 sq ft ranch house built in 1920 (don't worry, it got remodeled in 1960, so we've got all the modern conveniences!). I moved in with him, taking the 2 attic rooms for my bedroom and my office.
That summer, I jumped in with both feet, learning how to feed the cows, how to load cows, how to operate loaders, tractors, and skid steers. It was challenging, hard, sweaty work. Some days I came back to the ranch feeling good about the work accomplished, and other times I came home entirely defeated. Every time, Dad was there with a knowing nod and a chuckle, because he'd been in my shoes before.
I hadn't lived with Dad since I was 5 years old, so living with him (and sharing a bathroom) was an entirely new experience. When you have different communication styles, different ways of seeing the world, and different thought processes, it's challenging to be able to understand the other person's perspective when you only see each other every other weekend. Over the years, our relationship was difficult, to say the least. When I moved in with Dad that summer, it changed everything for us. We had proximity. We had dinner together, we saw each other in the morning, we joked, he taught me about the ranch, and of course there were some late-night, deep talks. We got to know each other all over again, both as a father/daughter pair and two people running a business together.
Sometimes I think back to those 10 months of job searching. It's not that I was unqualified for any of the jobs - I'd had library experience (paid, volunteer, and internship) and a Master's in Library & Information Studies. I can't help but think that God knew I needed to be somewhere else.
God knew my relationship with my dad needed to be repaired, he knew the massive turnover we would have at the ranch in 2023 alone, and he knew what I needed to draw close to Him. In my heart of hearts, I know that's why I didn't get any additional job opportunities. It's important to remember, that even at your lowest, your most discouraged, God has a plan. He's got your back.