Tom Petty was right: the wai-yaiting is the hardest part.
I spent the morning in the office, convinced that they've offered the local position to someone else. I imagined the announcement at our next faculty meeting. I thought about other jobs I might get for next year, because it is really not very likely that I will accept a job two hours away.
I went to Adoration at 1 and spent most of the hour slogging through a book I don't love. Right at the end I looked up at the monstrance and back down at my own arms and I had one of those moments of knowing that I am loved -- individually, enormously. This sounds narcissistic but it is true: God looks at the sprinkling of fine hairs at my wrist, at the visible pulse that he set in motion and sustains, and says, "That is Jamie and she is mine." His will is only good, no matter how it may diverge from my own.
Perhaps I should camp out in the chapel for the next few weeks.