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 5, 2012 |
It’s been a long time coming. I haven’t been able to tell one day from the next. But now… Now, I’m (almost) ready. Now, I’m less anxious and more amped.
My Bento Lunch is packed. My purse is gathered. My clothes are hanging neatly. Did I miss anything? After my emotional vomit on TGIF as well as the outpouring of encouragement and support that followed, I can say I’m faced with a renewed emotion today: Excitement.
It started out as anxiety as I prattled off a list of “What If’s” to my brother, who immediately assured me those thoughts are natural… But I’m not so sure how natural it is to contemplate being the sole survivor of a catastrophic event the first week I start work and having to run the office alone amidst a deficit of knowledge and working skills… Just sayin’…
Faced with the ridiculousness of my writer’s brain, I already informed my new boss that I think a little differently than most. I promise (or so I told her) that it won’t affect my professionalism. I mean, really. I’m back in the Insurance industry. My creativity won’t affect that. [I do hope I get to use the word, defenestration, at some point… but I highly doubt it.]
As I filled out documents last week, I broached the subject of Identity Fraud. My new boss questioned me, “Why would someone do that?” To which I promptly responded, “I have no idea. But I watch a lot of crime drama so I know it happens.” Yeah. Cuz my reality really should be a TV movie.
What started as trepidation as I perused the 300 page “Office Bible” quickly turned to confidence. I’ve done this job before. I can do it again. I loved it once. I’ll love it forever.
I am now, again, officially a Nine-to-Fiver.
My boss asked me a great question during our initial interview: “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I responded, “The same. Only… better.”
That which I have prayed for has arrived. And whatever comes of it, I’ve been here before.
So I know it’s going to be alright.
I’m turning a new page. And pretty excited to write a new chapter.
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 21, 2012 |
Recently I posted a question on my Facebook page: How do you feel about abortion? I know it’s a Hot-Button issue. My intent is not to stir the waters, not to preach my personal views. Just to find out what other people think.
It’s been eye-opening and I appreciate everyone’s input.
The two most popular words in this discussion are “choice” and “murder”. When all the color fades away and the soapboxing is over what’s left is “choice” and “murder”.
Abortion is a political topic, a religious topic, and a personal topic. I strongly believe that no matter where you fall in the spectrum, your view contains both those words.
Everyone makes a choice when it comes to abortion. You choose to be Pro-Life or Pro-Choice. You choose whether to allow abortion into your life or not. And you may choose differently in different stages of your life.
Everyone chooses to believe whether or not it’s murder. Differing studies and beliefs state life begins at conception, in the womb, or at birth. Your personal belief strongly affects your choice.
I’m not going to delve into scientific research and religious views. Because for every pro there is a con, and for every “A” there is a “B”. And it bothers me when people pit religion and science and politics against each other. Every side has their own foundation.
But I’d like to ask a few questions:
- At what stage does a fetus become a person?
- If a woman has the right to choose what happens to her own body, who chooses what happens to the baby?
- Why is it okay to legislate against murder, but not against abortion?
- If abortion is a religious topic, does it belong in legislation?
- If abortion is a legal issue, how can it be Pro-Choice (left up to the individual)?
- If abortion is a personal decision, why should it be publicly decided?
- Are there other issues that fall under the Religious v. Political umbrella?
I’m not sure where I stand on abortion legislation. I have my personal beliefs, but I’m not a “one size fits all” kinda Doll. I realize no matter what I feel/think/believe, there are others who support my views and others who don’t. And there are situations in which my perspective has no bearing.
I believe, whether or not abortion is legal, it will still be performed. The world as a whole has grown comfortable with the idea and you can’t un-ring a bell. If abortion is legal, it protects women. If not, while it tries to protect the fetus, it will cause abortionists and women to become criminals in the eyes of the law.
I don’t quite understand why, what so many claim to be a personal choice, needs to be decided so publicly, for everyone.
Everyone’s story is different. Everyone’s background, heritage, experience, and life is different.
After reading and talking with you, you’ve reaffirmed that abortion is not a “one size fits all” kind of discussion.
And I’m left with this simple statement:
There is no simple answer.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Oct 19, 2012 |
[For more posts like this, visit my FAITH Page.]
I love the stories in Exodus. I love how God can take a socially inadequate murderer like Moses and turn him into the rescuer of an entire nation. I love how He never condemns Moses… yes, He gets frustrated with the man, but He never condemns him. There are cause-and-effect, actions and consequences… but no condemnation. Moses doesn’t get to party in the Promised Land, but he does enjoy his Salvation.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Or rather, the Story. You see, my church is reading through the Bible this year. Start to Finish. All 66 books. Pastor Tom calls it Route 66. Kind of a take on the Mother Road that winds its way through our not-so-little town. In the beginning of the year, I wasn’t too good at keeping on track. So as I (try to) do my daily readings, I also try to catch up on one or two of the Missing Days.
I also listen to the Bible online at night. It helps me sleep. It helps me process what I’ve read, and what I’m going to read. As you’ve probably guessed by now, this week I’m concentrating on the Book of Exodus.
Tonight I read Chapters 7 – 9. The start of the Plagues. And this is what I’ve learned:
Moses and Aaron were old. Old. Great-grandparent Old. Really, God? You’re going to save the nation through two old men? Whatever… and not just old men, either. Moses was a murderer! Remember way back in Chapter 2 when Moses killed the Egyptian who was beating an Hebrew? And then he ran away. Poor Moses! Hebrew by birth, adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter. No wonder he couldn’t talk straight!
And then there’s Aaron. The older brother. The one who became lesser. The one who had to speak for God’s chosen one. Do you think that may have caused some sibling rivalry? I’m thinking maybe just a tad.
But don’t worry. It gets better. Because this was a Real Band of Brothers. They joined forces and together approached Pharaoh in the Name of God and asked to be set free to worship God properly. God told them. They asked. Pharaoh refused. You could prob’ly set your sundial by it.
Pharaohs were usually succeeded by their first son through the Queen [Pharaoh’s wife]. If Pharaoh’s first wife didn’t have a son, then the next wife’s son was chosen, and so on. It’s quite possible that the Pharaoh Moses went to confront was known to him through his early upbringing. That alone could be a huge part of the strife. “Hey, you know me, but there’s this God I’m listening to now. And, well, basically, as a ruler, you stink. Lemme go.” I’m just thinkin’…
Here’s what else I learned tonight: God never promised them freedom at the onset. He only instructed them to ask for it, and expected their obedience. He told them from the get-go what Pharaoh’s response would be. And guess what? Yup. It happened. Just.Like.That.
Every time Moses and Aaron performed a “trick” like bringing frogs out of the Nile or turning water into blood, Pharaoh’s sorcerers did the same thing. Now, I’m not a real theologian or anything, but I gotta wonder… how is doubling a curse on your land proving your point? I mean, if God brought gnats into your house, and a sorcerer doubled them, would you be all “Oh, thank you for the gnats, Great Pharaoh!”? Yeah. Me, neither.
But with each test, each Plague, something was happening in Egypt. God was getting their attention. At first, all of Egypt was against the Hebrews. After a few Plagues, even the sorcerers admitted God was greater than their own powers. And by the Seventh Plague (hail storms), the Bible says, “Those officials of Pharaoh who feared the word of the LORD hurried to bring their slaves and their livestock inside.” [Exodus 9:20, NIV.] Even Pharaoh’s own officials recognized the power of God!
Now, my reading for today stops after the Plague of Hail… but not the story. And I know how it ends. Wanna know?
God wins.
Simple, right?! I think so. I find peace in knowing the ending. In knowing that all God required of Moses and Aaron and the rest of the Hebrews was persistent obedience and faith. And in knowing that God kept His word in their lifetime. And more than that, told them ahead of time what to expect.
I think that’s a pretty well thought-out battle plan, don’t you? Of course there’s a few more Plagues to deal with and the whole Red Sea parting. And let’s not forget that even with these great signs and miracles Moses lost his temper. When he struck that rock in frustration, he directed the Hebrews’ attention away from God and onto himself and therefore was not allowed into the Land of Milk and Honey [Numbers 20:12].
How many times do I lose out on earthly blessings because I’m too stubborn and frustrated and afraid? How often has God instructed me just to follow Him and obey, and I embellish? How often do I try to claim the glory and the credit for His good works?
How often do I stop in my tracks, afraid to move on? How often am I worn down with the weight of my world, wondering when my help will arrive?
Take note from Moses and Aaron: You’re never too old. You’re never worthless or unable to be redeemed. You’re never alone. You always have direction.
And always, always, always
Keep On Keepin’ On.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
EXODUS
