Corporate Sellout

Remember when I said I was quitting my job to be a writer?  Well, turns out that idleness doesn’t suit me.  And I’m not the most self-motivated.  (I haven’t written for this blog in…well, let’s not talk about it.)  So I’m back in accounting but this time in the corporate world.

It’s somewhat different from public accounting and it’s challenging, but I like it.  It’s a great place to work.  We develop and manage hotels which means I get discounts all over the country.  Pretty nice perk.  Nothing’s perfect but here’s some high points.

  1. I park in a garage.  I was a little leery at first because we all know parking garages can be dangerous but it seems okay.  And the best part is you don’t have to wrestle your umbrella into the car when it’s raining.
  2. There’s good security.  You have to have a security badge to make the elevator go up to the fourth floor.  With all the shootings on the news, it makes me feel good that they take our safety seriously.
  3. The bathroom is fancy.  I mean, listen, each stall is it’s own little room.  It’s always spotless and there’s always enough TP.  It matters to me considering where I came from you couldn’t tell if the toilets were even swished at night.  But anyway…
  4. There’s a gym.  Not that I frequent it but still it’s there if I suddenly become athletically inclined.  It would be a good excuse to go shopping though.

Like I said, nothing’s perfect and there are definitely cons but I know this is where God wants me because no matter how frustrated I get or how hard it is to adapt to a new environment and new people, I’m just so happy I’m not where I was before.  Change is hard, but change is good.  And at the end of the day, every day, I know that change is exactly what I needed.

It’s Not About Them

Why am I different?  Why do I always have to be the odd man out?  Why am I on a different path from everybody else?

Of course why is irrelevant.  I’ve already talked about that. But I seem to always end up on a different road.  And sometimes that’s uncomfortable.

It’s so much easier to be seen doing the things God calls you to do.  When your calling matches up with what church folks expect, it’s pretty easy.  You get to talk about it and share it with the people around you.  You don’t get funny looks or the “What are you doing for God?” kind of questions.  It’s so much harder when you’re the one God called to abide.  Harder when you’re called to a solitary activity.

I’ve been hearing a lot of noise around me lately.  Noise about what everybody’s calling is and what they’re doing.  My church preaches relationship and obedience to God.  No matter what that looks like.  And yet when you know you’re being obedient, people still expect you to be something else.  In my church lately it’s been all about creating extended family through home group fellowship and study, becoming a prayer servant who prays for healing, and hearing the Father’s voice and giving prophecy to others.  These are all great things and I’m so happy that there are so many people participating and building family and reaching out to the community.  It’s awesome.  But I do not feel called to any of that at this time.  In fact, the Father has been quiet lately.  And that’s okay.

That’s okay.

And yet, I have all this static around me saying that it’s not “acceptable,” not good enough.  Everybody’s got all these stories, experiences, words, and they feel they have to share every one of them.  And me?  I don’t have anything to share because what God has for me right now is intensely private and quite frankly, no one’s business.  What right does anyone have to tell me that’s not good enough?

I feel like obedience is being lost in a sea of goals.  Life isn’t a video game.  Gifts of the Spirit are not levels to be beaten.  Your growth should never be measured against anyone else’s journey.  You are where the Father wants you.  Turn your eyes to Him, not to your friends or the church leadership.  Don’t join something just because your friends think you should.  Don’t do something just because the leaders preach it from the pulpit.  It may not be for you at this time.  And if that makes you different, then so be it.

Make obedience your goal.  It’s about Him.  It’s not about them.

“He replied, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it.’”  Luke 11:28 (NIV)

Deep Water

Back in December a friend of mine suggested that the members of our church group ask the Lord to give us words for the coming year.  Mine were growth and friendship.

Now, I knew better than to try to predict what the year was going to look like based on two words.  But I admit I thought it would look something like God calling me to serve somewhere in the church and I would build deeper relationships with my friends at group.  My dog died in March so I thought maybe that was a sign God was going to send me somewhere. Or send me someone.  I wouldn’t have any strings.  I could go anywhere and do anything.

After seven months of 2016, I feel more isolated and alone than I think I ever have.  I feel distant from my group.  I don’t feel any call to serve at the church.  I haven’t been on a date in over a year and I feel really rejected.  All I want to do is read and write and sleep.  I’m moody, snappish, fatigued.

And somehow, I feel like I’m exactly where I should be.  When I read, I feel like me.  When I write, I feel like I’m moving forward.

I can feel myself changing.  It’s almost like gears and cogs moving around inside me, making me into something new.  It’s very hard to describe.  It’s like I’m becoming a hybrid of my hard, surly teen self and the much more loving and compassionate twenty something self.

I know I’ve been chosen for a different path.  I’ve always been different from everybody else.  I’m getting better at appreciating that.  He’s leading me somewhere.  I know it.  I just can’t see it.

This is deep water.  This is where a lot of Christians fear to go.  It’s much easier to go to church and visit God than to bring Him home with you.

But this is where you find out who you are.  When it’s hard and uncomfortable and you can’t see any point in it.  When the water is over your head and you have nothing but Jesus’s hand pulling you up and Him saying “Oh, ye of little faith.”  This is where you let Him pull you out.

This is where you walk on the water.

I’m That Girl

I’m that girl in class who never raised her hand.

I’m that girl who was never invited to the party.

I’m that girl who didn’t get drunk with you.

I’m that girl in the photos from the Maymester.

I’m that girl in the sorority you never really knew.

I’m that girl you didn’t call to catch up.

I’m that girl you didn’t think was good enough.

I’m that girl who solved the problems.

I’m that girl who always gets it done.

I’m that girl who used to go to your church.

I’m that girl you passed over on EHarmony.

I’m that girl you went on one date with.

I’m that girl who’s only funny if you’re drunk.

I’m that girl who takes the punch.

I’m that girl who gets back up.

I’m that girl who listened to you.

I’m that girl who forgave you.

I’m that girl who still prays for you.

I’m that girl who has Faith.

I’m that girl who Hopes.

I’m that girl who Loves.

Because the greatest of these is Love.

Yeah, I’m that girl.

The Problem of Why

About three months ago, my dog died.  She was only six years old.  She got sick, she was in pain, and she had to be put down.  I only wrote about Patti on this blog once, about how it took me a long time to really love her.  She was stubborn, frustrating, difficult.  I struggled to train her and worked really hard.  I had to improvise a lot.  You couldn’t follow the rules of the training methods with her.  Patti made her own rules.

I started calling her my “little lesson in acceptance.”  I wanted a Westie because they’re adorable.  I really wasn’t prepared for her energy and her strong will.  She wasn’t a lap dog and wouldn’t sleep in the bed.  She always wanted to be in the middle of whatever was going on.  She wasn’t the dog I hoped she would be but I grew to love her and accept her for who she was, a loud, high-spirited, loving, sweet, adorable, playful terrier.  Despite her anxiety and refusal to be groomed, we had a good time together.  She would “tap” your leg when she wanted something and growl at you when she wanted to play.  We spent long afternoons sitting on the swing outside and evenings throwing the ball around the living room.

Her death hit me hard, a lot harder than I expected.  It was the middle of tax season so I had to get on with the work, get on with life, but I cried nearly every day.  There were holes all through my life where she used to be.  The dining chair no longer sits under the window in the living room so she can see out.  Her blanket isn’t on the left seat of the couch.  Her bowl isn’t in the kitchen.  And I was angry.  I asked God, Why?  Why take my dog?  She was still so young.  It wasn’t her time.  The Bible says you’re good, how is this good?  How is this grief, this hole in my life, this pain, good?

He didn’t answer why.  After a few weeks, on my Saturday morning drive to work, He simply said, “It’s My will.”  You see, He is the sovereign God of the universe.  When we sign up to walk with Him, we sign up to play by His rules.  And we don’t get an explanation.  We are called to walk by faith, not by sight.  I don’t see why as a question anymore.  I see it as a problem.  Every time I ask why He does something, I’m lacking faith.  I have to cut “why” out of my vocabulary.  Because the why doesn’t matter.  What matters is that He is good.

Do I still cry for Patti?  Yes.  Does it still hurt?  Yes.  Is He still good?  Yes.  Patti taught me a lot about dog ownership and myself.  Her death taught me about faith.  It taught me that even when the storm is raging and the pain is so bad that it’s like the world is ending, I still know God is good.  Because three years ago I chose to pick up my cross and follow Him.  Where He wants me I will go, no matter what it costs.

When the God who made the universe said, “It’s My will,” I said, “Okay.”

Yourself or Someone Like You

Recently, one of my co-workers suffered a stroke and because of her other health problems she cannot come back to work. In fact, her doctors have said she’s lucky to be alive. While it’s sad to lose her (she’s a great lady), I’m happy they decided to hire a new person to fill her position. I fretted and bit my nails over who they would choose. We really need another person to do taxes, not just the bookkeeping work our former co-worker was doing. I wasn’t hopeful given management’s track record of late, but they surprised me by hiring… me.

She’s not exactly like me but close enough. She’s around 30, unmarried, has experience doing this kind of work, and most importantly, does individual taxes. That’s exactly what we need. I’m working on training her and I see a lot of myself there. She went to grad school and got the Masters and is still trying to decide if she wants to get the CPA. I decided against all that early on but we have a lot in common. She’s responsible, detail-oriented, hard-working, kind, and respectful. She’s struggled through her twenties, having jobs pulled out from under her. I’ve struggled on one job. Boy, have I struggled. We may not have the same experiences but we agree that she needs the training now. It’s only six weeks to tax season. She wants to know what she’s responsible for and how to do it and I’m trying to make that happen. Management has responded positively to my efforts and I see that trend continuing. I’ve proven over the last year and a half that I’m attempting to improve things for everyone, not just myself. And that seems to be appreciated.

A year ago we were in dire straits. I was sending up desperate prayers that these issues would get resolved, that someone would pay attention, that people would stop fighting me when I was trying to help them. It looks like those prayers have been answered. This time next year could be even better.

There are many things I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving but the biggest is this job. There have been a lot of days when it didn’t seem worth it and I wanted to just quit and go somewhere else. It has taken six long, hard-fought years but I finally feel like it’ll be okay. I’ve built a career here and I’ve earned respect. I was even able to clone myself. Now, that’s something to be thankful for.

Mud in My Eyes

“How then were your eyes opened?” they asked. He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.” John 9:10-11 (NIV)

It wasn’t mud. It was a fancy 21st century laser but it’s essentially the same thing. I had Lasik surgery recently and to say it was awesome is an understatement. It may not have been an instantaneous healing but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Let me back up. I became near-sighted at eight years old. I had to get new glasses every year and at 14 I got contacts. I hoped I could get Lasik done soon after high school but of course my vision had to stop changing before I could go for a consultation. Year after year I went for my annual exam hoping they would tell me my eyes had leveled off and year after year I was told I needed a higher prescription. It became really stressful to go to the optometrist. I hated going for that exam more than any other, even the gynecologist. Finally, two years ago my prescription stayed the same and last year I was cleared for a Lasik consultation. My eyes had leveled off at a whopping -9.00. If you don’t know how bad that is, consider yourself blessed.

I couldn’t make time for it last year and I was scared to have the surgery. I was afraid that I would be the one in a million who loses her eyesight to a botched surgery. I still wanted it because even with contacts I wasn’t seeing 20/20 and my glasses were Coke bottles I had a really hard time seeing with. But I was scared. I thought I’d just make due. My eyes weren’t getting worse anymore. Then I went for my appointment and was told the strain of not having my vision fully corrected with contacts was causing the prescription to go up again.

We see many miraculous healings in my church and I’ve said that if I could choose what God healed for me it would be my eyesight. At the Supernatural Conference I had someone pray for my eyes. Nothing happened but she told me God wanted me to trust Him. I admit I was disappointed. That night I woke up, looked around at the blurry (and I mean blurry) room, and sighed. Then God said, “I’m not done yet.”

Two weeks later I went for a consultation. I was sure they wouldn’t be able to do Lasik but maybe they could do a different kind of surgery. It would cost as much as a car but my student loans are paid off so maybe I could swing it. They told me I was a good candidate for Lasik and they could do my surgery in two months. I was shocked and elated.

On September 26, 2015, God healed my eyes. At -9.00 I fell just inside the parameters of Lasik and was the highest prescription they did that day. I had always been afraid of the surgery and I thought I would be a nervous wreck that day but I could have done it without the Xanax. It just didn’t make sense to be scared anymore. I finally released the problem to Him and He has blessed me beyond what I expected.

Finally, after twenty years, I can sit up each morning and see clearly. Lasik is truly miraculous.