“Your resume is impeccable, your interviewing skills were superb, and we know that you can do the role. Unfortunately, we think you will be bored in the role so we’re deciding to go a different direction.” 

I stared at my iPhone screen in the parking lot of a restaurant, trying unsuccessfully to hold back rage-filled tears. My heart palpitations were causing my ears to ring. The role I knew was perfect for me, in a city I had literally been feening to live in, had just sent a nicely written rejection email. I would not be serving this organization with my vision, I would not be moving from the town I had inhabited for 14 years, and the worst part of it all, was that it was not due to some error on my part. I had meticulously reviewed and updated my resume, had brushed up on interviewing techniques, and had even be willing to take a pay cut. 

I wanted this role for more reasons than one. First off, its mission was geared towards supporting children, who I adore. As a social worker, I had a ton of experience with direct student programming, summer and after school administrative tasks, grant compliance, and more. When I saw the role on Indeed, I knew it would be a perfect way to leverage my skills, prior work experience, and passion for kids and helping others.  

“Unfortunately, we think you will be bored in the role so we’re deciding to go a different direction.” 

I had waited in eager anticipation all week for that email. For it to be saying “No” left me dumbfounded. To not get a role because you were inadequate is one thing. To be rejected based on being overqualified is heartbreaking. 

I allowed a tear to slip down my face, haphazardly wiped it away, and then braced myself to have a meal with a friend. I was not about to let my rejection email ruin my friends’ experience. I would sob hysterically into my pillow later that night in solitude. 

Here’s the thing about rejection: it hurts, especially when it is something we really desire and feel in our spirit is a beautiful opportunity. To be going in a direction and to meet a roadblock with no earthly idea how to navigate where you head next can cause a ton of unwelcoming emotions. But, I have come to learn that it is in the re-routing and detours of life that we truly get to learn about scenery. What am I saying? What I thought was for me, actually was not, and had I received the role, I would have missed out on an opportunity that changed my life for the better. 

I was bummed about learning I was rejected. I was sad about feeling “stuck”—stuck in a role I was uncertain of, stuck in a town that I was sure that I had outgrown, stuck in a “woe is me” mentality. I was so busy thinking about what happened to me that I stopped thinking about what I could do for me. I have since learned that it’s never about what happens, but how we respond to life’s setbacks.  

One day as I was going for a walk I heard the buzz of my cell phone. At this point I had stopped checking my email as frequently, as I had no hope in good news for a new job. A new job was on the forefront of my mind every morning and at the recesses of my mind as I slept. My nightly prayers consisted of me shaking my fist at God for his dallying in answering my requests for a new job, and giving him haphazard praise for keeping me afloat. I couldn’t decide to be sad, joyful or resentful, so my prayers oscillated between all three emotions.  

The buzz of my cell phone signaled a new email.  I had a request from a local university asking if I would be interested in keynoting an event. I stopped walking, my heart palpitations once more ringing in my ears. 

A chance to speak and meet college students? A chance to pour some wisdom and advice to the world’s next thought-leaders and innovators. And they wanted me? 

Ultimately, I responded yes, spent weeks preparing, and got on stage and crushed it. I shared about my experiences as a mediocre student, about finding my place in a mentor program, pursuing social work as a last ditch effort to prolong entering the workforce, managing an after-school program, and diving into a career as a spoken-word artist. Ultimately, I shared with them that failing was a part of the process, and that if they weren’t failing, then they weren’t growing.  

It was not until that night as I lay basking in the glow of fulfillment, thanking God for using me to serve others with words, that it hit me: Had I gotten the role I so desperately desired, I would have missed this keynote opportunity.  

Life’s rejection is God’s protection. I was looking for a role when God was preparing me for my purpose. If you are in a season of rejection, please know that like a garden, God is cultivating you. I am now grateful for that rejection email for they were right. That role was not for me. God had different plans.