On August 28th, my wife lost her job. 24 hours later, I lost mine. This blog is a continuation of the day-by-day chronicling of our emotional journey back to employment. This is bound to be upsetting, hilarious and hopeful.
Saturday – September 27, 2014
Today was basically boring. I picked up Elora from Cross Country and cleaned the house and… that’s about it. Erin was out and about quite a bit, which put me in the pole position with the kids. Not a place I mind being at all.
After dinner, Erin and I started a fast. Once a month, on the first Sunday of each month, everyone in my church abstains from food or drink for 24 hours, from dinner-to-dinner. It’s not Gandhi in length, but it does take some discipline to make it all the way through. The idea is that spirituality is increased as the body is conquered, helping one to focus more on the things of God.
I have to be honest–fasting doesn’t really do anything of the sort for me. Instead of not thinking about my body and food, I hyper focus on them both and am weak and unable to concentrate on much of anything. Thankfully, the immediate benefits aren’t the real reason anyone fasts. A fast is just starving if it’s not for a purpose. A fast is a sacrifice, offered up as a petition to God for assistance on whatever matter is of the most concern. When there’s a drought, you fast for rain. When someone you know is sick, you fast for them. When you’re unemployed, you fast for a job.
The fast begins with a prayer in which the purpose is stated. So, God and I had a heart-to-heart tonight. When I approached the prayer, I didn’t think focusing on getting a job was necessarily the right thing. I don’t just need a job, I need know which way to go on this new crossroads. What am I–what are we–supposed to do in this next phase of our life? There are so many options. We could stay or we could move. Erin could work and I could stay home with the kids and work on things like writing that I enjoy most. I could be an Art Director again or do some type of management job. Erin could go into sales or work as a substitute teacher. We could go live on a farm and make our own butter.
If we knew how to make butter, that is. And if we didn’t need cows to do it. Cows stink.
What I want God to know is that I’m open to anything. I just want it to be right thing. This is the advantage of having a relationship with Someone who knows the end from the beginning. He knows where we’re headed and, if it’s His will, He can tell me. Or at least point us in the right direction. I don’t know what needs to happen for us to know, but I do know this: I’m not making a move without some communication from Him. Whatever happens next is too big and too important.
And if God is silent? Then I know the answer is wait. I’ve had enough experiences with this sort of thing to know He’ll show up when He’s ready. So long as we put forth the faith in the meantime.