Some of you may know the journey our family has been on ever since the Great Adventure began back in January. I stepped away from ten years of retail customer service into . . . nothing.
Well, not exactly nothing, I had some IRA savings set aside—not enough to retire on, but a fair amount—and my wife is/was the co-founder and V.P. of a non-profit organization called Ds Connections Nw that’s kept us pretty busy off and on. Yet even THIS has taken a dramatic u-turn that I will write about shortly.
What I mean is, nothing in the sense of . . . nothing that pays.
See, I knew I was done at Barnes & Noble. The frustration continued to rise and the reward was just, gone (which is a whole ‘nuther rant altogether), and the ones who were truly suffering were my family members—my wife, who had to listen to my rants, and my kids, who didn’t get to see me much at all, even when I was there.
My time was done, the season had passed, that was abundantly clear.
But . . .
I wasn’t being shown where I was to go next. That’s when someone in our small group said, “Maybe you’re supposed to step out in faith, then He’ll show you your next step.”
So I did.
And, here I am.
Eight months later.
. . . . jjjuuuuuusssssttt waiting.
The material instinct inside me calls me insane.
The spiritual side says that I have prayed for God to lead in my life, therefore I’m in God’s will. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
It’s a continual argument. One the material instinct often wins.
I know God’s with me through this because everything I’ve been hearing lately, everything I’ve been reading, has been saying, “Abide in Me.” “Rest in Me.” “Do not worry about tomorrow . . .” Assurance in the will of God.
Still, I just want to look up to the Daddy/Father like the child of God I am and, in my best whiny voice, go, “But its ssssooooooo hhhaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrddd!! All my friends are laughing at me. I don’t know what I’m gonna ddddooooooooooo??!!”
He answers, “I know. They laughed at me, too. But for now, just wait.”
And I stamp my little feet, cross my arms tightly and go, “Hmmph! No! I’m MAD!”
(Actually, I stole that from my seven-year-old.)
He just answers, with a patient sigh, “I know.”
And I do too. I’ve done this with my own kids. It doesn’t matter what good will come “down the road.” They don’t think that far ahead. It frustrates the bejeebers out of them when I can’t/don’t give them instant gratification. They’re locked in the moment. They want their “now.”
And, so do I.
I get it.
In my head, I get it.
But, as I’ve often heard, that’s the difference between head knowledge and heart knowledge. I’ve got it, but it hasn’t sunk in. Even as I write this, I know I’m going to be back into the funk-world of self-pity and frustration. Sooner rather than later, more likely.
And God knows it, too.
He loves me anyway. (Thank . . . well, Him!)
He hasn’t steered me wrong yet . . . looking in my rearview mirror.
It’s just so hard—especially when you don’t know the road you’re on—to look ahead.