*Note: The purpose of this blog is supposed to be some sort of outpouring of informative, thoughtful, and faith-driven ramblings from a girl in her mid-20’s who is learning to rest in the Lord. It rarely meets this criteria, and today is no exception. I just need to get this spilled out, and thought through as I expose my heart yet again. I have three spiritual gifts: sarcasm, crying, and over-sharing. Enjoy them all.
I’m pissed off. Angry, and frustrated, and genuinely confused. In the last few weeks, Harli and I went from plans of debt repayment, and moving to a bigger place, to concern over whether or not we’ll be able to make February’s student loan payments, and wondering how the heck life spun so far.
The primary concern is my job situation. I figured out pretty quickly after starting this job that it wasn’t suited to me, or I to it. A few weeks ago, my supervisor put me on a two week probation, with strong implications that if I didn’t resolve all of my inadequacies, then I’d be fired. She’s never outright said this, but the message has been pretty clear. Last week, right before a meeting to discuss my progress, or lack thereof, I just told her that I’m honestly doing the best I can, but that I know she doesn’t feel that’s enough. We met with HR, and I was essentially given two choices (though neither were stated directly): I could resign, give up to two weeks notice, be paid for that period, and put on a roster for temporary admin opportunities; or, I could be terminated. I took the former option, and was confident that two weeks would be ample time to find something else, given that my employer is obligated to give me any time necessary for job interviews and appointments. I have a week to go, and I haven’t been called back for a single application. Not one. We have some money in the bank, and we’ll be ok for awhile, but…
We’re supposed to spend the first two weeks of April with my family in Iowa. We haven’t booked the tickets yet, and now I’m scared we won’t be able to afford them at all. I desperately need to see my family, and the thought of putting it off for even a few months makes me so sad. And, who wants to hire someone who is leaving for vacation in two months?
Harli’s best friend of 20 years passed away yesterday. He’d been in the hospital for about 10 days, but we just found out yesterday when the situation reached a critical point. H and I took off for Redcliffe (90 minutes away) and he was able to say goodbye to Mike before he was taken off life support. My husband is shattered. Part of the reason we moved to the Gold Coast was so we could be closer to Mike and his wife, Nanda. I’m at a loss as to what to do. There are no words to make him better. The whole way to Redcliffe, we were praying for healing, wisdom, and peace during this time. I wanted to witness a miracle, but I have to believe that the Lord has a purpose in this time.
In all of this, the suggestion has now been made that we move back to New South Wales, where Harli’s mom and sisters live, and part of me thinks it would be a good idea; family closer, less chance of painful memories for Harli, and hey I won’t have a job after next Wednesday anyway. At the same time, I love the Gold Coast. I don’t really want to leave, ever. Plus, we can’t really afford a move right now. But, I’ll be behind my husband no matter the decision. It just makes me sad to think of leaving when we’re only just finding our groove here.
I feel myself spinning. I know that God is capable of anything, so why did Mike have to die at 32? Why couldn’t a miracle have been possible? Why do any of us have to hurt, if the Lord is as loving as I know Him to be? Why was I allowed to make such stupid career decisions? I hate growing, and change. I want things to be straight forward, but life isn’t. I’m lonely, and I’m afraid of losing all that I’ve been clinging to. I’m tired of being told to “give it up to the Lord.” What happens when He decides that He’ll be faithful, in time, and that we need a lesson in telling Him our plans? All of these questions are churning in me, but who do I share with? My problems are so insignificant, and I don’t want to burden anyone around me, so I just blog.
I don’t have any fuzzy reflection, or affirming words to end this. I don’t know what’s to come, but I know that we’ll figure it out. Maybe I do need medication, again. Church isn’t helping- I only feel more alone. The few friends I have here are busy, and don’t want my sadness. I’m just a scared and dramatic little girl, pretending to be an adult.