Marching Around the Walls

When I was given the choice of resigning or being terminated I didn't think much of it. Sure it was disappointing, but with a good resume, solid work to showcase and my charismatic personality, I wouldn't be out of work long.

Then days became weeks, weeks become months and before I knew it months had turned into a year and then two. At times I was very pro-active in my job search and other times, because I hadn't even had so much as a sniff, I wasn't at all. It was a vicious cycle. The more I heard nothing . . . the more likely I was to just sit on my butt and not do anything to try to find a job.

Frustrated, sad, ticked off and way past discouraged; I would often cry before I went to sleep and sometimes during the day as well. When was something going to work out. Finally, I got a breakthrough! As I signed the acceptance of my job as a proofreader, I was ecstatic . . . so much so that when my boss walked out of his office to make a copy of it tears rolled down my cheeks. My tears of sadness had become tears of joy-- what a blessing!

Then a year later my 30 hours got cut. "No big deal," I thought. Then weeks later, bam, they were cut again. After the third cut, which cut into my spirit just as much as my hours, I was left with 12 hours! Almost back in the same boat as before.

Only this time I was more determined. Fifteen, 20, 25 30 applications. Phone calls made, cover letters sent, emails in their inboxes. Going to indeed.com had become a staple of most of my days. NOTHING. Arrrrgggh, it was happening again. I felt like God had put me right on the verge of the Promise Land and now here I was back in the desert. Over the course of several months, I had one interview and it went extremely well, but when they informed me it may only be for 10-15 hours per week; I was not interested.

Do You See Me God?

Many nights I cried myself to sleep. Some may say that's soft, but I just felt like it was all hopeless! Even though my Mom had been my life-jacket financially and rescued me from drowning; I was drowning emotionally.

I continued to pray, kept tithing more than 10 percent every Sunday and kept believing a miracle was on its way (it just was stuck in traffic). I found hope, direction and the strength to endure in my Bible readings and in my worship: in the car, here at home and at the gym, as set after set kept me sane and served as a good release.

In other words I kept marching . . . just like Joshua.

I knew God saw me. I knew He was catching each tear I cried (Psalm 56:8), but it really didn't feel like it. But my Dad told me, "Son, when things are still and it seems like nothing is happening that's when God is doing the most work behind the scenes. Hang in there." I was hanging, but with frustrations building within me, with my girlfriend and my family . . . it was only by a thread!

They all were praying along me, and wanted the best for me, but saw nothing happening. The worst feeling was it wasn't due to lack of effort. I was doing my part. I was putting my feet to the pavement and beating down the proverbial bushes. Still NOTHING. Mad enough to scream, sad enough to tear is how Eminem said it in "Rock Bottom" and that's exactly how it felt.

My girlfriend had two separate conversations with me meant to light a fire under my butt. She knows my potential and could see me not realizing it . . . not when it came to a job or realizing my dreams as a writer. The first conversation did exactly that. The second one, which took place several months later, served that purpose, but each word were like fiery darts with each striking my spirit and hitting my heart. I was a wounded warrior. Not a victim and she wasn't the bad guy. I just had no answers for her. I knew her words were said out of love and draped in encouragement in a 'tough love' sort of way, but I was just as fed up as she was.

I just listened.

And while I did, through the tears forming in my eyes, I silently cried out to God. I deeply love this woman and if I EVER lose her; I sure as heck don't want it to be because of something I had little control over (as all you can do is your part). Please help me Lord! You aren't just the Way-Maker; You are the Way . . not just the Truth-Teller; You are the Truth . . not just the Life-Giver; You are LIFE. I believe.

Despite any evidence; I continued to believe. Isn't that what faith is!?!