The Homeless Man in My House

Image from Smithsonianmag.com

Last summer I took a homeless man into my home for an overnight stay. His stench followed him up the stairs where he steamed up my bathroom with a hot shower-- using my bath soap, wash cloth and towel.

Why I'm Not Mad at God (New Thoughts on Unemployment)

Yesterday. Rain, grey skies, and a phone call. They hired the "lesser" candidate. We've been here many times before.

My Radio Interview on Unemployment (And Suicidal House Plants)

You know you're a Facebook addict when you dream up a status in your sleep. Here's what my slumbering fingers typed last night:

I've finally figured it out: my house plants are dying of suicide.

Philly Mudslide Part Two

Today marks one week past the deadline for when they were supposed to contact Dave about a job offer. They haven't as much as emailed, or responded to his follow-up voice mail. Nor did they ever offer mileage reimbursement for the four-hour drive to the interview. Dave has decided he'd rather not work for a company with that kind of unprofessionalism. So we're back to square one and okay with it.

Meanwhile, I've added another lesson (hopefully) learned to this trial:

The Mudslide that Swallowed Philadelphia

Dave had a job interview Tuesday in which they pretty much told him they’d call by the end of the week with an offer.

But yesterday (Friday) dragged by, hour by snail-paced hour without a phone call (I’m sure the acid in my stomach increased by the fluid ounce with each passing minute once the afternoon hit.). Based on the way they talked at the interview, we figure that either a mud hole suddenly opened up and swallowed Philadelphia, or Bill Gates put in for the job right after Dave, agreeing to do it for free.

The Return of Ferdinand (con't. from previous post)

Last night Ferdy returned to our pond, in all his white feathered glory.

A few days ago Dave received the email from Intel (every scientist's dream place to work) saying that they've chosen another candidate. Oregon would have been fun.

This afternoon I was driving through the rain on route 14 north of Troy. While reaching out into the wetness to throw the wayward windshield wiper back onto the windshield, I listened to a voice mail on Dave's cell phone (I don't recommend the use of cell phones while attempting to fix a broken windshield wiper as you're flying down the highway in the rain.). The message informed me that Dave will not be working for K. in his latex testing lab. This local company has also chosen someone else.

Now this will be a great relief to Dave, because although he would enjoy working with his good friend and former employee (that's right, I said "former employee"), he did not just complete three grueling years of grad school to test rubber gloves. Not even for a short time, only to say "Adios" to K. and leave him to go through the hiring and training process all over again.

I am fine with that. But I was hoping, just a teeny bit, that maybe this could be something Dave could do in the meantime. Which is ridiculous, because it's not what Dave wants to do and it would be very unfair to K. So I was being selfish, and crying in the rain, along highway 14.

Then I started to think about my friends, and other people I know, with bigger problems. Or should I say, with problems. Friends with sick kids. Lonely friends. Friends with confused, runaway kids that are breaking their mothers' hearts. Friends with chronic pain. And friends with lots of money and still without a clue as to who they really are in life.

Then I felt very small, and whiny. I imagined God saying, "This is about a duck?"  Yes, a stupid duck. A duck that will come back to us. Soon. Very soon.

Nobody Messes with My (Unemployed) Man!

Yesterday someone called to check and see how things are going with Dave's job hunt. He meant well and I appreciate his effort to pick up the phone and let us know he cares. Let me repeat: I so appreciate that he cares.

But as the conversation developed, I felt less cared for and more judged. I could hear in his words that he views my hubby (whom he's never met) as a man who sits around burping and scratching when he should be out working. The man who just spent three years at perhaps one of the most competitive universities in the world, studying things like polymers alongside Chinese students who never sleep, working eighteen hours a day to come out with a decent grade in Cornell's graduate chemistry program.

Yeah, I'm bragging. I'm also pounding this keyboard too hard. Nobody messes with my man. My man who got home at one o'clock in the morning, slept for four hours, then awoke at five to make the one hour drive to school again--for six and sometimes seven days a week. This is not the kind of man who is content to sit on the couch all day and read Hunter magazine.

But I didn't point any of this out to my phone-a-friend friend. I politely thanked him for caring and said good-bye. 

I hesitate to write again about our "situation." Unemployment is a reproach, an icky disease that people discuss behind your back. It's not like having cancer. Cancer isn't your fault. But unemployment is, right? It's something you can fix, and should. That's why my friend called me up on the phone. Because he's a fixer.

That was yesterday. Tonight my hubby asked me to pray with him. So I knelt beside him on the couch (you know, where he drools all day instead of working) and tried to pay attention to his prayer. If you know him, you know that his voice can put you to sleep and I mean that in the kindest way. His is a deep, soothing voice, and his words are carefully thought out, one at a time almost. So I knelt there and soon was thinking about fashion, and wearing jeggings this winter, and big rings. Suddenly I felt the couch shaking. I put my arm on Dave's back and it was shaking, and I realized he was crying. "Oh God, please use us for your glory. Don't let us miss what you have for us, because we're too busy smelling the roses. Do with us whatever you choose. We give our lives to you."

You know what? Dave may never again wear a white lab coat and goggles. He may never realize his dream of developing something groundbreaking and useful for humans in this life. We may never get to take that cross country trip in an RV and show our kids America. But it's fine by me. Life is short--and then the real life begins.

@ Satan--This Post Will Tick You Off!

There’s a Facebook status I’ve dreamed of typing for quite some time now.  It goes something like this:

After five years, three months, 19 days and seven hours of unemployment (with grad school thrown in), Dave is finally, officially EMPLOYED!

Of course my FB friends will ask where, doing what, and I’ll reply with something like:
     
Research Associate, Harvard… We’re moving to Boston!!!! :)
                                               or
Environmental Scientist, Honolulu (Hey, I can dream!)

If you  had told me that come May, 2010, Dave would still be sitting here filling out job applications, I’d have slapped you with a frozen deer steak. But here we are. The journey is long and stained with tears of frustration and self pity.

I remember the night several weeks ago that I lay in bed next to Dave, on my stomach, hugging my pillow. I looked at him and declared, “It’s time to pray a new prayer. There are people watching us, watching our lives. They are watching our faith in a God Who promises to provide. Didn’t the Israelites use that as leverage in their petitions to Jehovah? ‘What will the heathens think of You if you forsake us’?” We prayed together with new boldness, motivated by the desire to bring glory to God.

Nothing happened.

Oh God did provide—many times and in surprising and mysterious ways. He has continued to supply our every need, as He promised (Philippians 4:19). We have yet to go hungry, unclothed, and unhoused. When we need a job is up to Him to decide. There are lessons to be learned in the meantime. One day, one of them occurred to me (and became a real Facebook status):

God wills to be glorified as much in poverty as in prosperity, in suffering as in bliss.


And so I rest my case. There is a joy to be found that defies circumstance, a peace that mocks uncertainty. I have found my living hope, my anchor of the soul. His name is Jesus. When the Heavens are finally opened and the blessings poured out, let it not be said that my countenance changed.
  

For Jobless People Only

If you are unemployed, or married to someone unemployed, as a result of this unrelenting recession—I am here to tell you what you already know but need to hear and feel, up close and personal. You are not alone. There are many, many people—blue collar and white collar, in your same situation. I know your daily struggle to keep your face above the floods of despair that threaten to take you under.

(By-the-way, if someone says the recession is over, bless his pea-pickin’ little heart. He must not be looking for a job.)

Here’s another thing I know. I know how hard you’re working (or your spouse is working) to find work. I know the hours—hours it takes to scroll through job postings and fill out applications, hundreds of them, hoping to hear back from just one.

I know the disappointment of seeing the same old same old positions listed over and over again.

I know that one can memorize several pages of indeed.com. and the same eight jobs that have been posted at major companies’ websites for months.

I know that not all job fairs are equal. I know that there are unknowing people who can actually laugh at you from their little job fair booth when you ask if they need a chemist.

I know what it is to not care anymore that you may have to move to a frozen –over place like Montana.

Or take a job doing the very thing you went to back to school to try to get away from.

I understand your right to refuse that job, knowing how wrong it would be to take it until something better comes along two months later. I will never judge you for that. It is right. 

I also understand that it is more difficult to get a job if you are over-qualified than under-qualified. I know how well-meaning friends and family members sit around and talk about how you should be willing to take just any job, not realizing that you would take any job--if only you could get hired. I know how you want to wring the necks of those who don't understand that a warehouse manager will not hire a scientist to package parts.


I know what it’s like to find out that because of Equal Opportunity laws many (if not most) of the positions listed online were already filled internally before they were posted.

I know the hopes and joys of getting an interview and going out to celebrate because it went so well…and I know the blow you feel when you read that follow up email.

I know that having connections and “it’s who you know” doesn’t always matter.

I know the pain of being judged over the fact that you still don’t have a job.

I don’t write these things to be complaining. I’m not trying to garner pity (I get enough from myself! ;) . I am simply reminding you, once again, that you are not alone. I know those details that can’t be written about, those things you don’t dare mention to anyone.

I know how you want someone to care and that’s all. You haven’t got your hand out. I care.

In my head, I know God is at work to find us work. It just takes a while of actively seeking Him in prayer and in His Word to get what I know in my head down into my heart, to the point that my life reflects faith. I’m not always there. I want you to know that too. I know what it’s like to not always be there.

Soon Dave will have a job, the Lord willing, and this will be over. Until then, “when we are faithless, he remains faithful.” 2 Ti. 2:13

God Bought Me Some Perfume

So I've been wanting some new perfume. But as the luxury remains on my "when-Dave-gets-a-job" list, I'm content to sniff-n-wish every time I go to the mall, taking home samples of my latest "favorite."

There's this verse in the Psalms about God giving us the desires of our heart. I've always piously declared that as long as our desires match His, He will do just that. But perfume? Way too carnal a thing to desire.

Not so, apparently, for at church today a lady (knowing nothing of my secret parfum pining) handed me a bag containing a gift box of five small bottles of unopened designer perfume. "I wanted to give you a present," she said, and walked away.

My guess? God told her. I really should stop being suprised and let it sink in that He really does like us that much--enough to buy me perfume.

"If you'll hold on to me for dear life," says God, "I'll get you out of any trouble. I'll give you the best of care if you'll only get to know and trust me. Call to me and I'll answer, be at your side in bad times; I'll rescue you, then throw you a party. I'll give you a long life, give you a long drink of salvation." Ps. 91:14-16, The Message