I was not chosen for the job I told you about. It was Director of Education at the church I attend, and the other candidate was the wife of their former minister (recently retired from another pastorate), and a deacon in the church. Giving her this position — and she is well qualified, too — allows the church to bring a beloved family back to the church, and is a matter of widespread rejoicing. The members of the committee, and some other folks who I suppose had heard about it, made a point of coming up to me to tell me how impressed they had been with my interview, and the pastor wants to talk with me about “other possibilities.”

The point here is that I was actually there to get the rest of the story. Usually, when you are not chosen, you never get to find out the very good reasons that you were not chosen, and have to think about that daring answer you gave to that question, or worry that your qualifications are not as good as you thought — or whatever your personal response is to such things.

When often there is a good reason to choose the other candidate that is not about you at all.

That’s the moral of the story.

The people on the education ministry are now making delicate suggestions about how I can volunteer the skills that I revealed in the interview.

This just shows that I have succeeded, at least in the context of this church, in being as humble and modest as I always try to be and usually fear I have not been πŸ˜‰