The governor; or On letting go of my life and dreams of gainful employment.

Side note before I begin: I think up things that I want to write about often. I tell myself, "Maybe I'll get to that later." Which often means that I won't get to that later. This is unfortunate. But another reality in this situation is that because I think of so many things I want to write, and because the gaps between each post are so wide, I often forget what it is that I have written and what I haven't. For this reason, I often fear I'm repeating myself. I think "No, I haven't written about this. It's safe to talk about like people haven't heard this before, because they haven't heard it before." But then myself retorts with "Maybe you did write about it before. It seems like maybe you did. You should go check before you sound like a fool, repeating stories like you're a 90-year-old woman who forgets what she just said five minutes ago." (By the way, this is not meant to slight 90-year-old women who repeat themselves at frequent intervals. I find them to be quite precious. But I'm not 90 years old. I'll save that behavior for later.) Therefore, whenever I sit down to blog, I typically have to go back over my last few posts to remind myself what it is that I said. And it takes me that much longer to get around to what it is that I'm wanting to say.

And then I feel the need to explain all of this, as if anyone cares. And another 5-10 minutes of my life passes before my eyes.

I recently posted a "Scrawlin" on Facebook (as my piratical profile likes to call a "note") that highlighted a few ironies my life is currently using to make me laugh (cry/wonder why/feel confused). One of them is that I graduated a little over two months ago, am still jobless, am no closer to finding employment than I was the day I graduated, yet have been anything but idle. Nor have I just been busy for the sake of finding a way to ward off boredom. I'm sure there are probably many others in my same position, but I still find it interesting enough to comment about.

I have a theory. There are some people in the world who find work to be furthest from what they hold dear, and, in many instances, the only reason they have a job (in the formal sense of the word) is because they like food, shelter and entertainment more than they dislike work, and they haven't found someone who will provide those things for them. Then you have other people who can't call themselves living if they're not working. If they have a job, which they likely do, it's likely a demanding job, and they also are involved in other groups outside of their job, are tightly connected to their families and have active friendly social lives, which all demand the majority, if not all, of the free time they have outside of work. If they don't have a job, then those outside groups, families and friends become their full-time job. If they were to get a job, they'd make room for it. But their life is already so full that they don't need employment to fill up their time.

I'm one of the latter.

This obviously is a theory of extremes. If you find yourself thinking, "I'm not quite either one of those people," that's okay. You're in the middle. You live by the rule of moderation. I applaud you.

Moderation doesn't make sense to my brain, I guess.

Thus, if it were up to me, and if I were still a slave to my old self and not made new by Christ, I would have already had a job. I don't know what, but something. Simply because that's what a responsible, well-functioning adult does: has a job. It doesn't matter what kind of job it is. It just has to be a job.

But I'm learning, or being forced to, break out of that mindset.

Before I continue, let me make it clear that I'm not, nor will I ever, advocate irresponsibility. Nor do I promote being a leech, always demanding that someone else take care of you. Please don't be a leech. Please don't be irresponsible. I'm aware that you may sometimes, but don't make a habit of it.

What I am saying is that, as far away as I already feel I am from the "American Dream" mentality, I think God is trying to quell what of it still remains within me. I can live with a lot less than I think I can. And the things that I do need to live can often be shared. Especially at this time in my life when I'm a single person, not fully responsible for or obligated to anyone else. The only attachments I need are to people, not things. And since I don't yet have the irrevocably bonding attachments of marriage or children, I'm free to let my attachments expand to others without neglecting those of primary importance.

God is also not letting me forget that who I am is not about what I do. I am easily deceived into thinking that it is. The lie is that I can't be a complete person, a valuable person, unless I'm doing something, unless I'm performing, unless I'm being a good, respectable citizen. But the truth is I'm still a whole, valuable, loved person whether I do or I don't. And that wholeness, value and love doesn't come in degrees. That's radical thinking for an overachiever like me.

A third thing being impressed upon me is that what I do needs to be focused less on making a paycheck and more on fulfilling life, both mine and that of others. So many people in the society I'm a part of get caught up in a job and a way of life (largely determined by their job) that drains all that's good out of them and doesn't do anything edifying for anyone else. I cast no ill judgment on these people. The motivations behind going down this path are many and often thoroughly compelling. But I'm being led a different way. I think God's impressing on me to start down a different path while I can. Before I have a family that's depending on me. Before I'm living on my own and realize I can't suffer the reality of my life anymore and feel forced to start over, yet powerless to do so. I have little to nothing right now, so I'm in a perfect position to start something in my nothingness that I can work to build upon. Then, after a lot of hard work, something can come from my nothing, a system can be organized and set in working motion, and not only can what I do be enjoyable and utilize my abilities, it can be something that benefits other people while providing for my needs.

Speaking of provision, another lesson I'm confronting is that God is my provider. The end. He can choose to use a job to give me what I need. Or not. He may use a neighbor who has a little spare food and is willing to share. He may use a friend who got a bonus in their last paycheck that just happens to be enough to cover the bill for my electricity. Or he might use a stranger who drops a $20 bill from their pocket, which then falls to the ground later to be found by me. God has a good imagination. He can come up with something.

Finally, I'm learning the perils of being too disconnected from people and conversely how essential it is to have relationships. We need to share with each other. We need to help one another. We need to give to each other. If I'm cut off from people, then there will never be anyone around to give into, and therefore enrich, my life. I'll be a sad and lonely shell of who I could be. And I will never come to know what "regard others as better than yourself" means. Jesus set forth the ultimate model of service, and the more I become like him, the more I'll start reaching out to others. To the point that it's more of a compulsion and less of something I have to discipline myself to do. Opening up like this requires being vulnerable, dying to myself, allowing people to see my imperfections, which all push me to remember that I'm not all that and a bag of chips by myself; that God is where my strength, value and identity come from. Iron does indeed sharpen iron.

How are all of these lessons being conveniently placed before me at the precise moment I need to learn them? By me "conveniently" being unable to drive my car. If I was able to go anywhere, prospects would have already been scoured. Applications would have been submitted. But my proverbial hands are tied with a knot I do not possess the skill to undo. There's a lot of progression that I could have already made online, but should something have progressed so far as to demand me leave my immediate surroundings, I would have to tell people, "Thanks for asking me to do the job, but, after all that work we both put in, it looks like I won't be accepting your offer. Sorry I wasted your time and made you think that this was going somewhere when it wasn't." No thanks.

I'm learning more and more every day how much my life is not in my control. Sometimes, I think I'm going to do something, I see how it's going to happen, then it happens. But more often than not, what I think will happen doesn't. Or it does, but the way it happens is different than I predicted. I tell myself that I'm going to work at camp, then come home and get busy finding a job, but no. The pastor of the particular little portion of the Church that I have chosen to gather with every week told a story one time about how he decided to fast and get his mind off of food. He got sick. So violently sick that nothing would have stayed in his stomach had he even the gumption to try to put something in it. He needed to fast and refocus his attention on the source of his every need. God ordained that it would happen. I've needed to cool my heels and focus on the source of my existence and its meaning. God ordained that it would happen.

So I, the overachiever who considers it high treason to shirk responsibility, am not worried about the fact that I don't have a job. (Ask me again later and we'll see if I hold the same position.) I will make progress when the option to proceed is placed in front of me. This does not mean I will sit idle until then. I can't do that. That's not who I am. And that would be irresponsible. But responsibility does not lie in whether one has a job, but is rather rooted more in one's attitude toward life. I pray that with Christ's influence I will always keep the proper attitude. And I pray for grace the times I misplace it.

In an effort to be transparent, all of this that I have talked about in these many paragraphs goes completely against my innermost inclinations. Being aware of this truth and moving even further to accept it as a part of my life isn't easy. As I've said more than once, I'm an overachiever. I've also made no secret of my propensity to believe that I am what I do. But in the middle of my drive to do something, there was another little tug in the opposite direction. And it wouldn't stop. I've come to recognize that tug as the Holy Spirit. I know my own tendencies. I also know how much my own tendencies tend to either get me in trouble, or leave me with a life that's far less than what I know it can be. Finally, I know that I in myself am far from God's perfection and righteousness. So when I feel that little tug toward the other way, or hear that little voice telling me something different, I've come to assume that it's God. And I trust that his way is better then mine. It can be really scary to go the other way. There was a night recently when I felt like a blob of mess as I became aware of this truth and allowed it to make its way in to change me. And it felt kind of like a death sentence saying, "Okay, God. I'm going to let go of everything. You have it. I'll surrender myself completely to being faithful to following after you above anything else. Even above my own security. And my own sparkling reputation. My own dreams of success." In reality that's what it was: walking toward my own execution and flipping the switch myself. But the beautiful thing about Christ is that when you give up your life, he lets you have his own, and it's far better and more precious than anything that you gave away. You'll feel more like a whole person than you did before.

And I know that the complete lack of panic and surge of peace I currently feel is unmistakable evidence that "I am not who I was, I'm being remade, I am new."