When God Becomes Your Career Coach (And Sends a Sneezing Squirrel)

It was a Wednesday. Not a tragic Monday, not a hopeful Friday—just a painfully average Wednesday. The kind of day where your coffee is lukewarm before you even drink it, and your inbox mocks you with unread rejection emails disguised as “We appreciate your interest.”

And then it happened.

An email.

Subject line: “Update on your application.”

I clicked it faster than a teenager trying to skip YouTube ads.

“Thank you for your interest in the position. After careful consideration, we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.”

Bold of them to assume I remember applying. At this point, I’m sending out résumés like prayers in a confessional—desperate, hopeful, and increasingly unhinged.

So, I closed the laptop and stared at the ceiling like it owed me money. Then I did what any reasonable, slightly unemployed adult with too much time and not enough serotonin would do.

I asked God for advice.

Not in a quiet, contemplative way. No. I announced it like a Broadway solo.

“Okay, God. You’re up. I clearly don’t know what I’m doing. Am I supposed to be applying to more jobs? Starting a business? Selling essential oils in a pyramid-shaped organizational structure? Please advise.”

And immediately—my Wi-Fi died.

Not a flicker. Not a slowdown. Full-on, no-signal, digital blackout.

I stared at the router like it had just cursed me in Aramaic.

“Okay, Lord,” I whispered. “Interesting move. You’ve taken away LinkedIn. Are You trying to save me… or humble me?”

So I took a walk. I needed clarity. Air. Maybe a job offer on the wind.

And just as I stepped outside, barefoot and emotional, a squirrel darted across the sidewalk, stopped in front of me, locked eyes—and sneezed.

Now listen, I’ve been through some things. But I’ve never been spiritually ambushed by a rodent with allergies.

Still, I figured: if the burning bush worked for Moses, maybe this was my moment. I said out loud, “God, if You’re trying to tell me something, I’m gonna need subtitles.”

I went back inside and opened a random page of my Bible like it was a cosmic Magic 8 Ball. It landed on a verse about the Israelites wandering the desert for 40 years.

Fantastic. So this job search is biblical now. Good to know.

I lit a candle, took a deep breath, and went full monk-mode. No laptop. No scrolling. Just silence.

And I prayed again:

“Lord, if I’m supposed to pivot, open a door. If I’m supposed to wait, give me peace. And if I’m supposed to start a llama-based candle company, please be direct. I’m fragile.”

Just then, my phone buzzed.

It was my neighbor.

“Hey Alex, random question—ever thought of starting your own business? You’ve got that kind of scrappy, slightly desperate energy.”

Was that divine confirmation or just a casual insult wrapped in neighborly concern? Hard to say.

But I took it.

Because here’s the thing they don’t tell you in career counseling:

Sometimes asking God for advice doesn’t come with a scroll from heaven or a burning resume cover letter descending from the clouds.

Sometimes it comes through a failed Zoom interview, a Wi-Fi outage, a sneezing squirrel, and your neighbor accidentally suggesting you become a CEO of something you Googled ten minutes ago.

And that’s okay.

Because peace doesn’t always look like a six-figure offer and a corner office.

Sometimes peace looks like letting go of what you can’t control, making a grilled cheese in your pajamas, and realizing that just because you don’t have the job yet doesn’t mean you’re not being guided.

And if you’re feeling stuck, confused, or like you’re one rejection away from starting a podcast called “Hire Me or Else,” just remember—God’s timing is rarely early, never late, and almost always confusing.

But He’s got jokes.

And apparently, squirrels.