In the belly of the whale
“Now the Lord provided a huge fish to swallow Jonah, and Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.”
Funny what God “provides.”
I don’t know what it is about Jonah lately—I feel like I wrote about him a few blogs ago—but there’s something in his constant back and forth with God, and Jonah’s not wanting to do what he is told that is entertaining.
Or familiar.
The whale thing is really a passing detail in Jonah’s story, but the whale thing is big—it’s what we all remember.
I wrote in one of my advent blogs that Caroline Myss says God doesn’t waste words—when He has told you what to do, but you still keep asking for direction, He just stops answering. When you pray and hear silence, Myss says, it’s because you already know the answer.
God kept telling Jonah what to do and Jonah kept asking for something else. The whale in Jonah’s story is the divine silent treatment; it’s a God-level time-out.
I started this blog in March of 2017 because I’d left my full-time academic administration job—my decision, their timeline—and I wanted to see what writing would get me—I wanted something new. And, at the same time, I looked for academic jobs I already knew.
New and knew. Hmmm.
So I wrote my blog and applied for an associate dean position. Didn’t get it. I took a job adjunct teaching and applied for a tenure-track faculty position. Didn’t get it. Then I applied for another teaching gig and didn’t get that one either. About 4 months ago I applied for a dean that I was sure I would get but didn’t.
Two months ago I did not apply for a dean position but was asked to become part of the pool—I did not want to be dean, I was pressured to interview for dean, I was told there were no other good candidates for dean and that I would be a great dean—the dean, the VP said, she needed to keep from quitting. I did not even get a second interview.
I am in the belly of the whale. God has put me in time out.
Jonah prayed for three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, and God made the whale puke him up, and then made Jonah do a bunch of shit he did not want to do.
God’s done talking to me, and I don’t feel like praying. And, to be fair, I’d rather not be puked out.
So I’m just going to sit here for a while with some seaweed wrapped around my head, knowing what I know, what I knew, and what I should have no’d.
