Nov 9, 2012 |
What a different a week makes.
Fridays are quickly becoming my favorite day of the week. This Friday, in particular, is one that I intend to treasure and enjoy.
Two weeks ago I bared my soul to God. One week ago I wrote about it. Today, I’m banking my first paycheck in a year and a half.
It’s small. My first three days’ worth of work. But it’s so much more than that.
It’s a purpose. A taxable contribution to society. A means to an end. I get to socialize, help people, crunch numbers, work with computers, and have a reason to get up in the mornings besides seeing Dot off into the world.
I bought a new dress. And knee boots. I realized, as I donned my new outfit Thursday morning, that I’ve not worn a skirt in three years.
In The Store
I’ve lost a little weight since summer. I wasn’t overweight to begin with, but the few pounds that have dropped have made wearing skirts and short hair more fun. And those boots?! Lemme tell ya, these boots were made for walkin’! [That’s right… I went there.]
I’m walking out of the dark, into the light. I’m walking toward self-sufficiency. I still have a long, rocky, and sometimes very narrow road in front of me. But I’m walking. With a smile on my face. And earned income in my wallet.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Nov 2, 2012 |
Today, for the first time in so very long, I am breathing a bit better than I have. Today (Thursday), I received a call I’ve been waiting for: I start a new job on Monday. I went to the office today to sign documents and pick up the Office Manual to re-introduce myself to the work.
The work itself is insignificant for the purpose of this post. What is important, is that I am finding my footing somewhere between elation and anxiety. I’m not one to publicly display my fears any deeper than voicing a minor concern. And there are circumstances that prevent me from divulging certain aspects of what has been going on around here.
I lost my job on Monday, July 11, 2011. Since then, we (myself, Dot, and the rest of my family) have struggled with keeping the household running. Struggle is a good word, yet not good enough. There have been many times I felt strangled. Many times I felt the cosmos was playing dice with my life. I am thankful this last season did not include any health ailments or accidents, as I’m prone to collect those like baseball cards every few years.
It’s not been easy. And unless you truly are in the midst of poverty, you can’t understand what it’s like. There are many jobs I can’t do. Not won’t do. Can’t do. Through no fault of my own, I’ve been in ten car accidents in 25 years. These have left me with consistent left hip, back and neck muscle/tendon issues. On a good day, I can walk. I can’t ever run. And on a bad day, I can barely get out of bed. Applying for a part-time cashier or retail position has never been an option for me.
There’s a common perception with employers that if you’ve been unemployed for any length of time, it must mean your unemploy-able. For over a year, I’ve been able to land many interviews. I just haven’t landed the jobs.
This last month was the hardest. I found myself trying to make such decisions as what to sell and when to sell it. Whether or not I should move, and if so, where? Michigan keeps calling me back. But so does Minnesota. I’ve always wanted to live in New York. Or just down the street.
There’s only so many ways a person can cook white rice without getting tired of it. There’s only so many times I can rake the leaves off the dirt yard to stay busy. There’s only so much pain a person can take.
Last Friday I couldn’t even get out of bed. I rolled over after Dot said goodbye on her way to college. When I knew the house was empty and no one could hear me but God and the cats, I screamed. I screamed loud and long and then I screamed some more. I thought it might help, but it didn’t. So I sobbed.
I’ve been exhausted for months, hiding behind this facade of a happy person fully trusting in God to take care of us.There’s a difference between being taken care of and barely getting by. I thought perhaps I’d reached the end of what I could take. And I sobbed even more.
I can’t fix the noisy toilets without help. I can’t pay for help. If something happens to the car, we can’t afford to fix it. I have to choose between cat litter and a gallon of milk. It will take more than a few months to repair my credit. I’ve made my payments, but not always on time. And as soon as I get fully current on my bills, something has happened to upset that apple cart. Sometimes it was just life getting in the way. Sometimes it was bureaucracy.
I can’t explain the agony that comes with poverty. How painful it is to choose between driving to a friend’s house or saving the gas for church. Some friends stopped calling. But others have blessedly been a great source of comfort and dialogue. It’s not fun having to refuse invitations to go out because I can’t afford it; but neither is always being the Charity Project of the week.
I’ve been labeled. That’s the worst. There are people I know/knew, who have labeled me as Unemployed. Emotional. Needy. Without truly finding the depths of me, they have labeled me with names that scream Poverty. Poor. and Problematic. I’ve been unable to reach out to those I once trusted, because they see me now as only a financial burden or emotional wreck.
I have lost the ability to be ME.
I’ve done my best to keep these influences away from Dot. Of course she understands we’re in dire straits. She’s well aware that there’s not as much food in the pantry as there used to be. But she’s in college. She’s driving herself around town. Her happy life is just beginning, and I won’t let this negative season weigh her down any more than it absolutely has to.
And I feel guilty. Oh-so-guilty. Because I’m alive. And my friend’s brother isn’t. Because I’m healthy, and a girl just had life-changing surgery. Because I still have a roof over my head, gas in the car, a very smart, dedicated, healthy, Godly daughter, a wonderful relationship with my family and many friends. And I’m tired of eating rice.
Last Friday, I sobbed and screamed for hours, until I exhausted myself enough to just be quiet. I was too tired to even sleep.
And here it is, six days later, and I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re gonna be okay.
I woke up this morning not knowing what the day, week, or month would bring. Not knowing if the child support would be paid. Not knowing how these bills will be taken care of. And something happened.
I had no more money in my account than I did yesterday. The bills still aren’t paid. But I was breathing. I was awake. Healthy. Sheltered.
And today I understand the meaning of Daily Bread.
God doesn’t care that my bills aren’t paid. He cares about me.
It doesn’t matter that it’s rice we’re eating. Because we’re eating. It doesn’t matter that the child support stopped. Because we’re gonna be self sufficient.
It doesn’t matter why I haven’t worked for so long. Because I finally have a job.
I’m so afraid it won’t last. I’m so concerned the economy will continue to fall or even stagnate and I will once again find myself back here.
What matters is that we’re still breathing. And we’re still together. I didn’t have to choose between my daughter in California or a job in the Midwest. I’ll be back on my feet in a month or so. And I’ll be okay.
For all I’ve gone through; for a better understanding of those who truly struggle with poverty; and for the blessing of a new job,
THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
This post has been linked up with Shell at Things I Can’t Say for POUR YOUR HEART OUT
Oct 11, 2012 |
I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: Life is hard. I mean, it’s hard. And it’s easy to slip into the “I have it harder than you do” mentality. Trust me. Been there, done that.
It’s not much of a surprise that I’ve been pretty bitter about Life’s Lemons. Long-term unemployment. Chronic injuries. Financial fiascoes. Throw in the struggles of family and friends, and my heart is heavy with the weight of the world.
When we were young, my older brother was a wise-cracking, joke-telling genius. One of his favorites (that for some reason I played along with every time, even though I knew the ending) was when he’d say, “I can teach you a foreign language. Repeat after me.”
“Owah. Ta-jer. Kay-yam.”
Now. You say it. Out loud. Fast. Faster.
Get it now?
Here. Let me change the spelling a little bit for you:
“O-wha-tajer-kiam.”
One more time. A little more clearly.
“OH, WHAT A JERK I AM.”
Yup. That’s it. And that’s me.
I’m the Queen of the Party. The Pity Party, that is. I can feel sorry for myself quicker than you can nod your head. And it comes oh-so-naturally, I don’t even know I’m doing it.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been more sensitive than others. Maybe it’s because I feel things deeper and harder and stronger and longer than others. Maybe I overthink or underthink or just don’t think at all.
Maybe it’s just me.
I haven’t been sleeping well for a few nights. The worries float around keeping my eyes busy with visions of things yet to come. Noise isn’t a distraction, and silence isn’t soothing. I just can’t seem to sleep very well.
So by the time I was functioning this morning, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t sick, I wasn’t angry, there wasn’t anything wrong. I was just tired. Just tired. Nothing else. And when I took the other non-possibilities out of the equation, the day seemed easier to manage.
I could drive, go to the grocery store, balance the checkbook, make dinner, clean house… all those things I didn’t want to do but should do. I did them. Because being tired isn’t an excuse to not take care of business. I wouldn’t call in sick to work just because I was tired. And right now, home is my work. And I’m the boss. I did not give myself a sick day.
And for that, I’m thankful. I’m really thankful. And I want it to show.
I still have my house. I still have my car. Dot is a full-time college student. I have family and friends. We have our health. And we have food in the house.
With all of these blessings, it struck me that I was still asking God for more than I was thanking Him for.
How’s that for gratitude?
Do I really trust Him to provide for me if I’m whining about not having milk for one day? We were able to put a full tank of gas in the car yesterday. I’m thankful we could afford it. When I ask God to give us our Daily Bread, is it honoring to Him for me to wish for more than what’s on the table? Instead of complaining that cleaning out the fridge is not our favorite meal, I’ve become extremely thankful that we have food in the fridge to begin with.
God is doing a most wonderful job of taking care of us. In ways I’m not even aware of; in ways I’ll probably never know.
I woke up this morning. In my own home with my family around me.
I’d say I’m pretty blessed.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
“Give Us This Day…”
The Adventures of Will Power and the Basket of Blessings
My Thanksgiving List
Oct 7, 2012 |
I recently had the opportunity to combine both my love of writing with my love for people. I shared a rough draft of my Study on the Ten Commandments with a dear friend who later told me Day Three really spoke to him.
After an introduction to the Study and to the Ten Commandments as a whole, Day Three introduces the reader to the First Commandment: “You shall have no other gods before me.” (NIV, Exodus 20:2). What my friend gleamed onto was a short message encouraging the reader to let go of all that distracts us from God.
God asks us to just be still. “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10, 11). The context here is God saving us from ourselves. He is all we truly need. We just need to turn down the other noise to hear Him completely.
I’m not advocating giving up your day job in order to spend hours meditating. I believe God gives us the ability to care for ourselves and those around us, and it’s our honor to do so in His name.
But there comes a time when we allow distractions to keep us busy, to stop us from facing those things we want to avoid. We often feel if we’re not exhausted at the end of each day, we’ve accomplished nothing worth noting.
Shhhh. I have a secret.
Are you listening?
It’s okay to take a breather.
In. Out. Deep in. Hold. Deep out. Relax.
It’s okay.
Sometimes it’s necessary to unplug and regroup. It’s important to just enjoy the quiet world around us and make our own Retreat. That quiet morning coffee? Bliss. After the kids go to bed? Nirvana. A quiet walk around the yard. A book in bed. Whatever you need to do to be still, do it.
Give yourself time to wind down from life’s busyness. Take a moment to prioritize your To-Do List. Just enjoy.
God is whispering to you. Are you listening above the noise?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
[A Study on the Ten Commandments will be available in early 2013 through New Inklings Press.]
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
More or Less: 29 Words
What I Learned on Women’s Retreat [The Big Whammy!]
Aug 29, 2012 |
Many years ago, when Dot was just an infant, I met a woman named Corrie. A remarkable young woman, named after another remarkable woman. My Corrie was named for Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie Ten Boom was a Dutch Christian who, with her family, hid Jews from persecution during World War II before being arrested. If you haven’t read her story, I strongly encourage you to do so. “The Hiding Place” is her autobiography, but she also wrote many other books and spoke often of her experiences in a Nazi Concentration Camp.
My Corrie is just as bold, outspoken, tender and friendly. Although we don’t see each other much, she still holds quite a dear spot in my heart. She and her family are integral to mine. My daughter and her niece have been close friends since before either can remember. They think they “met” each other in second grade, and a few weeks later I recognized the niece’s parents. The girls had actually been playmates as infants and toddlers before Corrie had moved to New Zealand and then Hawaii. After returning “home” for a number of years, her family has embarked on a new adventure near Las Vegas. Close enough to visit! It’s funny how God strategically places people in your life for years until you can really connect.
So you know I’ve been on a Housecleaning kick lately. That, and prayer. Boy, have we been praying. The new favorite motto around here is, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another!” On Sunday I woke up too sick to get to church. But I saw on Facebook from some friends that the passage Pastor Tom was teaching on was Jeremiah 29:11. This is my Life Verse. So it was comforting that a few people posted it online. With everything that’s going on around here, it sure is nice to know that God has a plan!
After a little while, I managed to get out of bed. I decided to check my emails, and had a Daily Verse sent to me by one of our Christian stations, Air 1. It was the same verse.
Then I checked my Daily Bible app on my cell phone. Guess what. Same verse.
I’m thinking God wants me to not worry about the upcoming week, yah?
As with every day since I cleaned house a few weeks ago, I try to accomplish one Writing Task (Not Blog Related). So far I’m doing well. Tonight I decided to sort through the last remaining paperwork. I had taken all my old notes and scraps and put them in the cat pillow decorative box.
But I hadn’t sorted it out yet. So tonight I did. While Dot printed off her Biology homework, I began a trip down Paperwork Lane.
And I’m so glad I did. I found a few cards and news clippings that I definitely want to keep. Tossed some old notes that are useless. And was reminded of several other story ideas for when Megan and I are finished with our nine (or more) book series.
And I found this bookmark. I’d been looking at the Pansy flowers often when I opened the box, but the bookmark was paperclipped to some old notes I hadn’t looked at yet.
Can you see how Pansies look like Angels with their arms outstretched, and their lovely flowing gowns?
Tonight, I unclipped and turned it over, recalling that I’d see a note from Corrie. I’d long ago forgotten exactly what she’d written. And tonight, I was reminded of love from her, and Him.
I don’t remember exactly when Corrie made that bookmark for me, but I know it’s been at least 15 years. It’s always been one of my treasures, and now it’s holding my place in my Bible.
Thank you, Corrie.
With (heart),
Molly
What a wonderful way to end the day.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
More or Less: 29 Words
What I Learned on Women’s Retreat [The Big Whammy!]
Dear God, Did You Forget About Me?!
A Good Name
God is Unfair!
I’ll Fly Away
“He loves me. He loves me not.”
