I often mentioned my day job, briefly alluding to it being a pesky nuisance in my otherwise charming life. Truth is, my work there was an answered prayer at a time in my life when I needed the routine and predictability of work. Also true, I put my heart into it every day I was there.

Six years ago, I stepped into a rural Catholic Hospital and met a woman who gave me a chance to answer the phone at one of her clinics despite my lack of experience in healthcare. Up to that point I was a journalist, author, grant writer, and community volunteer. I told her I was a stay-at-home mom, as that is easier to understand, and she gave me a part-time job.

For reasons beyond my comprehension, I fell in love with the work on multi-disciplinary teams and I was on my way down the healthcare rabbit hole, all the way to leading teams and earning a Master of Business Administration in Health Care Management.

So much has changed in six short years, except the people. The people on the front have not changed. The patients have not changed. The compassion that the staff, clinicians, and practitioners show every patient is remarkable. The teams I worked with delivered the utmost, exceptional, dignified care. I have witnessed it firsthand. The mission of the Catholic hospital included the words “to do the healing work of Jesus Christ.”

There was a buyout, as is common in health care in this country at this time. Still, the heartbeat of the care remains steady in its healing mission. Some things did change, but mostly it was I who changed. Therefore, I had to say goodbye to the stability of my day job with all its perks to take a bold step to devote more of myself to writing and creating communities where literature is shared.

This was not a lightly-made decision. Nor was it reckless. It is still a leap of faith. I found affirming signs since contemplating resigning, all telling me I am making the right decision. Some subtle: the scriptures that were presented in my devotionals, cute expressions in my Facebook Feed, encouragement from family and friends. Some practical, like the two women who showed up in my life with an idea, which led to the formation of a collective.

Then, at a recent stop at an unfamiliar coffee shop where I ordered a grown-up grilled cheese for lunch, this sign was right in view as I waited for my take out order. Glaring in its obviousness, I smiled at myself and took a quick pic.

As a woman, far too old to be caught day dreaming, I dare.

But I am not alone. My faith tells me to be courageous and to be not afraid.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10.