Nov 16, 2012 |
I never meant for my TGIF post to become a sequel, let alone a three-peat. The first one went a little viral thanks to Good People in the Blogosphere. I’m still amazed at the Good Things that came from pouring my heart out.
To be so confident in my vulnerability is a teeter-totter I’m still learning to balance.
I still have so much to say, and now I know I can say it. Now I’m not afraid of open myself up more. I’ve always striven for authenticity. I realize now that includes depth.
It’s another Friday night. Another end of the work-week and the middle of the month. It’s after Dot’s birthday and before the Holidays.
Tonight, I have so much to say. But I can only articulate one simple breath:
I’m So Very Thankful.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
Nov 13, 2012 |
It’s just after midnight and I can’t sleep. I’m anxious, but I don’t know why. I have a fearful feeling. I think it’s about going to work tomorrow, or rather in eight hours. I’m still financially underwater and praying for a miracle, but I’m not sure what that miracle should be.
I don’t often get anxious any more. Even with the last year and a half of unemployment, I handled it solidly until the last two months when other interferences came in to send us looping.
I feel like a broken record; to admit my faults, my fears so openly; but it’s apparent that my transparency is what readers value. My most popular posts are the ones in which I bear my soul. I just wish I had more to offer than this.
How can I explain that this job I’ve been praying for, this regular paycheck, causes me strife? Why don’t I understand this is a good thing, a long-term thing? When will I know the rug isn’t always pulled out from under me?
I’m anxious to be more financially solvent. To not have to pay one bill this week instead of the other; and to shuffle the paperwork again next week. I’m playing Russian Roulette with my debts and hoping I can find the magic bullet that will take care of them all without making a mess.
It will take a while. A steady paycheck isn’t an instant win lottery ticket.
I know that. I know this job isn’t an instant fix. I also know I feel better just getting out into the world far more often than I used to.
I’ve managed to keep up with my Blog, and scheduled more time for my writing projects instead of being so casual about them. I finished all edits for the Second Edition of THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK!
My situation is already improving.
So why do I still feel afraid of the dark unknown?
I’m embarrassed by my anxiety. Does it show lack of Faith? Weakness of character? Does my spilling it all out here make me some sort of narcissist, waiting for others to come my way with their sympathies?
No. I’m human. I’m faulty. But I’m also favored.
I know God loves me. I know at night when I’m awake like this it’s for a reason. Whether it’s to listen to the Bible and learn a new lesson, or to write it out so someone else doesn’t feel so alone in their anxieties.
There is a purpose. To everything.
And in my writing those few words to you, I’m reminded of the Words He wrote for me.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens.
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
I am comforted. And no longer anxious. How beautiful are such Words that truly sooth my soul. A breath of fresh air, and a cup of tea all in one.
Retreat: Be Still
Thank you, God, for the prayers of others that sustain me, even when I can’t see the foundation. You know, have known, always know everything. And so I step back from the driver’s seat and choose to enjoy the journey. And share it with the Words you give me to read, and write.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
EXODUS: Keep On Keepin’ On
Dear God, Did You Forget About Me?!
What I Learned on Women’s Retreat [The Big Whammy!]
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
