DAY NINETEEN: The Day I Did Everything

I had just dropped Kenna off and was headed to sub at the High School when my phone rang.  They needed me at the Academy something or other (gifted kids or kids in trouble, I'm not sure which) or as a 7th grade History teacher.  I jumped at the History teacher one.

See, I love history.  I don't know why, but a good story about something from the past always gets me.  There is so much inspiration and so many heroes in the history of our world.  History comes alive to me.

I had, unfortunately, forgotten that the textbooks in 7th Grade Texas History had not gotten the memo about History being interesting.  But I'll get back to that.

When I arrived, I learned I was not a History Teacher, I was a History Coach.  So the first thing I had to do was go to Athletics, where they took my attendance sheet and sent me away.  It was kinda like being picked last in sports- literally.  It felt like rejection, which was weird, since I was way more athletic looking than the other coaches.

I returned to the office and was assigned a kid to watch for a period that has autism.  Basically, I sat with him for a class while he listened to a book on tape with his class in case he had an episode.  It was very interesting to observe him and his reactions to others.  I have a little experience with Asperger's, but I've not seen someone at this age with this low level of social interaction.  He was a nice kid, though.

During my conference, I was sent to the behavioral class to help out while another teacher went to a meeting.  The kids were busy doing something, so the other teacher and I got to chat.  He was a real nice guy, who is getting a Masters so he can pursue international business- perhaps missions as well.  I've come across some teachers that I question why they teach at all.  They seem to only complain about students and the burdens of teaching.  This guy genuinely cared about the kids and just seemed excited to be there.  It was nice and encouraging.

When I finally got to teach history, the students answered the bell work of what does "G.T.T." mean?  (Gone To Texas)  Then they read about Immigration to Texas 1836-1856.  In two and a half pages.  It was the barest of bones for education.  I can see why students don't really like history until college finally tells the whole story.  We discussed the text by me asking them stories of their own ancestors immigration.  Also, the text talked about land grants- so I asked them what the largest land grant university in the state of Texas was. 

Give up?

Texas A&M.  Duh.

Then we watched Far & Away.  I've seen the first twenty minutes three times today.  I''d like to see the whole thing, now.  I found a new movie, so that makes today a plus.

At lunch I sat in the ISS room for the teacher so she could have her lunch.  I had a stare down with a student trying to buck authority.  I won.

The afternoon was more history class.  Despite the dryness of it, I loved every minute of it.  I can relate to 7th grade much better than 5th.  They actually get my jokes.  Usually.

Last period I was once again kicked out of Athletics, but it's OK, cuz I got to go home early.

All in all, it was a good day.  Now, I just really want to see how Far & Away turns out.

DAY EIGHTEEN: 5th Grade Math.

I was all set to work with the High School students again this morning when the call came at 7:15 that I was needed for 5th grade math. 

Math didn't scare me when I was in school-until college when it terrified me.  So, as we humans are wont to do with things that scare us, I've avoided math.  Having to teach a class on it was a little bit nerve wracking.  If only math were the worst part.

No, the worst part would be 5th grade attitudes.  Kristin had been telling me they were rough, but I didn't think it could be that bad.  I mean, they aren't teenagers yet, so the angst and moodiness should be minimal.  And, they are mostly less than five feet tall, so not intimidating at all.

Well, that last one is true, despite them thinking they were intimidating.  But the angst and moodiness- yeah, they could get their teenager badges right now.

I had a student walk out because he was getting angry at the fact attendance was taking so long and recess was being delayed- because they wouldn't stop talking and that was pretty much the only leverage I had on them.  His walk-out brought in a teacher, so that was good.  Ten minutes later this kid was sent to the office for fighting.

The end of the day saw me about to step between two kids who wanted to go at it.  Well, one kid who wanted to go at to show how manly he was, and another student (who, by the way, would have crushed the little guy trying to pick the fight) doing everything he could to avoid conflict.  With five minuted before the end of the day, this went down.  And as they went into the hallway, I could tell it was going to continue.  I got the instigator's attention, and calmly explained to him that even if he fought the guy and won, it wasn't going to end well.  He would get in much less trouble if he just walked away and cooled down.  Which, thankfully, he did.

The sad thing is, this 5% are the names and faces I will most likely remember.  The good kids, the ones who were respectful and fun and obedient got overshadowed.  I feel bad for them.

There were very cool new technologies I got to play with.  Smart Boards are so cool.  They are like the screens that football commentators use to draw on to show plays over the video.  Awesome. I want one for church.  But they are kinda bulky.

The other one was the "yacker tracker."  It's a stop light rigged for sound.  Green is good.  Flashing yellow is getting too loud, and Red sounds an alarm.  The kids would police themselves and I had far less "shhhhh-ing to do."

By the way, Monday, I complained that I didn't get to shush anyone as a librarian.  Today, I more than made up for it.

Still, I still enjoyed it.  It's been a while since I've worked with kids, once I get back in the habit, I know things will go much more smoothly.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Fulfillment Understood

Of all the house work than can be done, painting is the thing I like least.  It's great when it's done, but until then, it's torturous. 

That's how I spent my day, painting a bathroom.  I assumed that it would be a shorter job because it is small room, but I forgot something.

Angles.  Lots of angles.

At the end of the day, the bathroom is painted.  And I did remember to move the towels.

After I picked Leslie and Kenna up from Mother's Day Out and school, we ran to Sonic for Happy Hour.  Two watermelon Slushes and a Route 44 Dr. Pepper for $2.50, and I felt payment was fulfilled for a day of painting.

I've been realizing something these last few weeks.  I mean, I always thought this is what the reality of my life was during the times I wished for anything but the job I had, but this is clarification for me.  I have come to know that my fulfillment is not in the money I make.  Sure, I love things, and would love to have things like a new Camaro and hardwood floors and a new air conditioner- but that is not what fulfillment is for me.

It is working with my hands to finish a project around the house on my own.  It's writing about life or preaching a message and hearing that it speaks to others.  It's watching the success of my wife doing what she loves.  It's cheap cold drinks on a warm spring afternoon with my kids in the back seat turning their lips and tongues red or blue or purple like their slush.

It is being able to look in the mirror at the end of the day and seeing a smile because today mattered.  Today I could do the things I love, the things that give me hope.  Even the painting I can't stand makes me smile because I can see the results of my labor, and the appreciation of my wife and kids.

I once commented that I envied  friend of mine who had found a way to make a living doing what he loved, what gave him life.  He is a photographer, and he's good.  I wished that I could do that.  I was doing what I loved- starting a church- but it was eclipsed by the thing I did for money.  Slowly, the thing I simply did to pay the bills began to suck the life out of the things that give me life.  I was too tired to work on projects or write much, I was terrible about noticing my wife's work around the house and with the kids, and I spent more time feeling infringed on by my kids than working to see their happiness spilled out.  I let something steal my joy, to cut off my fulfillment.

I will not let that happen again.

Not just for my sake, but for my family's.  For the people I serve as pastor.  For the few who read what I write.  For these people, and for myself and for my God, I will seek the things that give me life.  I will not go through the motions, and make facades. 

The simple joys of a finished paint job and little red toothed smiles are far too sweet to be ignored any longer.

DAY SIXTEEN: I need a day job so I can rest

Today I decided that putting off that light installation had to stop- we've had the light for months in a box.  I mean, you only live once.

Now, you need to understand that the wiring in our house is unconventional to say the least.  Our fuse-box is labeled, but we've discovered over time the labels were probably just guesses as to what made sense to the builder.  So, when turning off the fuse for the light, I can't just turn it off and know with any certainty I'm not getting shocked.  And, I really didn't want the hassle of flipping a switch and running to the other room and back a dozen times.

The first thing I did was plug in the radio in the guest bath so when I found the appropriate switch I'd hear the sound go off.  I flipped the first switch and the radio died.  I couldn't believe my luck!

Which was a good first thought, because the light was still on.  This meant the plug was on a different circuit than the lights.  I needed Plan B.

So, I hired Kenna.  I had her sit in the hallway outside the bathroom with the instructions to tell me when the light went off.  Feeling confident she could handle it, I went to the fuse-box.

Flipped a switch.  Silence.  Flipped it back on.


Flipped a switch.  Silence.  Flipped it back on.


Flipped a switch.  Silence.  Flipped it back on.


Flipped a switch.  Silence.  Flipped it back on.


Flipped a switch.  Silence.  Flipped it back on.


Flipped a switch.  "Daddy!  The light went off.  But then it came back on!"  I make the assumption that that meant the previous switch was the correct one.  With Kenna, this is a shot-in-the-dark guess.  But it was right this time.  She happily ran off to watch some TV, but not before reminding me to make sure I took down the towels before painting.  That's tomorrow's chore.

I go about removing the old light, which is simple.  I check what I need to buy at Lowe's, then Kenna and I head out.  When we get back, we have lunch.  She's watching A.N.T. Farm on Netflix, so I go back to my bedroom to watch some Justice League cartoons.  It's then that I realize the power is out for that plug in our bedroom.  So, the south wall (only) of our bedroom, our bathroom, and the light (only) in the guest bath are on the same circuit.  It kinda makes sense, if you're under some sort of chemical influence.



I watch Kenna's show with her, and rapidly eat lunch.  She reminds me again about the towels, which I again tell her I will take care of tomorrow.

I soon determine that I have to cut a second hole in the drywall to gain access to put a support board and the wire box, as the existing hole (which is round) is too small for either of those things to fit.  Once that is done, I have to figure out the best way to attach those two things.  I decide to attach the board to the wall behind the one I'm working on by screwing it into the drywall that faces into Leslie's closet next to the guest bath.  I screw a couple screws in from the bathroom side, and want to make it extra secure by going from the other side.  As I start to screw it in, I hear a "Thunk!" as the board falls down into the wall.  I grab the back up board board, and decide to just screw it in from one side.  The box attaches with no problems, the I patch up the access panel in the drywall I made.

Now, the new light fixture has a circular wall attachment, just slightly larger than the existing hole.  I anchor some screws into the drywall, and hope for the best.  Kenna arrives to again warn me about the towels.  I wire up the light, get everything in place, and start to attach the fixture to the wall.

Then it falls out of the wall.

The anchors didn't hold, so now I move the fixture up slightly to get a good hold, and it works perfectly.

Except for the 1/3 inch exposed gap below the fixture where the hole can be seen.  Fortunately, I have spackle.  I finish up the touch up spackle from old screw holes and get everything ready for tomorrows painting.

With a deep breath, I flip the circuit and hope for light and no fire.

It worked!  And my house is still standing!  And I didn't curse once while doing the chore!

I am seriously tired.  I have worked harder since being unemployed for two weeks than in four years in my old job.  But I am feeling like each day I can see an accomplishment, I can see something being done that matters, even if it is just a cosmetic light fixture.  I do not want to make a career of electrical work, but it feels good to do something with my hands.  I enjoy it.  In small doses.

Kristin came home with word that she has an interview next Friday for the Music position she is subbing in.  Her principal did some checking with HR and found she DID NOT have to certified for music after all, but she is going to do it anyway.  Things are looking real good there, but prayers are extremely welcomed.  Her principal seems to love her, which is not surprising, because my wife is awesome.

Tomorrow I paint the bathroom.  There is this nagging feeling that I need to do something in preparation for it.  Something with towels...

DAY FIFTEEN: Now, I am a stylist

Immediately after posting yesterday's blog, my oldest daughter ran up to me and asked if, since we didn't have the money to go to an actual salon, I would cut her hair.

Now, I cut my own hair, using a trimmer, but I used to do it with scissors.  That was before an unfortunate incident with a broken light fixture that left me with an index finger that has no feeling.  It took me bleeding from the scissors cutting the numb finger to decide it was time for a change. 

I have also cut my oldest's hair when she got gum in it for the third time- and that time it was really in there.  But this was different, this was for stylistic purposes.  And Leslie has curly hair.

After much convincing, and numerous pitiful looks from her, I gave in.  I psyched myself up as much as I could, grabbed the scissors and comb, and went to town.

Whew.  Well, that was done.  And a pile of hair lay on the floor and a smile rested on the face of my child.  Mission Accomplished.

Then the youngest, whose hair was down past her waist and had never had a haircut of any significance approached.  If Leslie is good at the pouty face, Kenna is the master.  I really didn't want to do it, but I gave in, because, let's face it, they have me right where they want me.

I attempted to cut Kenna's hair the same way, using the dry cut method, even though she is less curly than Leslie.  I pony-tailed it up, and cut. 

Shorter than I intended and Kristin and I had agreed upon.

"Well, can't turn back now, so make it stylish," I thought.  As if I was capable.  But, all in all, it came out well, I think.

Of course, I'd just cut the hair in the pictures, but styled the next day, they look great!

As for work stuff, today Kristin learned she does in fact have to take a Music Certification test to get the Music job.  If she can get it done before July, she has a good shot at it, but we are both a little antsy about waiting that long.  But the best thing that came out of learning this is that Kristin has a big fan in the principal- that can't hurt.

I got some writing done on my much neglected other, more spiritual themed blog- Boredoflesserthings.blogspot.com  as well as cleaned up our bathroom.  I'm kinda running out of rooms to clean.  I have a light fixture that needs to be put up in the girls bathroom, but it's more involved than simply wiring it in and screwing it to the wall.

Plus, I'm a little skittish with light fixtures after the aforementioned finger incident- as well as several unmentioned run-ins with Christmas lights.

Getting shocked is a weird feeling, and I am not excited about repeating it.  Again.

DAY FOURTEEN: And the Mystery Substitute Assignment was...

Friday Night I accepted my first sub assignment as "Extra Help Teacher" at A&M Consolidated High School.  I was excited, but also a bit fearful- I had no idea what I was going to be doing.  I mean, I could be sitting in study hall all day with nothing to do, I could be having to teach a Health class on that terribly uncomfortable Sex-Ed day, I could be the PE Coach that looks like this:

But it was not.  Thankfully.

For everyone.

I arrived at 7:45 and was told there were two positions open- Librarian and Choir.  I decided that Choir was best left to my wife, so I became the Librarian for the day.  The aide was amazing, she was patient and kind, and knew a great deal having been at that library since 2000.  I learned how to check in and out books, that students have to have their ID's scanned to get in and out of the library, that computers are everywhere.  I learned that the loudmouth jerk kid is still the same but the quiet and into nerdier-pursuits girls are no longer so quiet.  A discussion with her, the aide and myself about we adults lack of interest in Manga (Japanese Comics with intricate storylines, like American comics, but less superheroes) when we were younger was because this younger generation was "More free with our expressions and interests."  It wasn't a put down.  I don't think, anyway.

I spent an hour and a half cleaning the tables to get ready for the testing that starts tomorrow and yes, kids are dirty, but there were just lots of tables.

The day went great, and I really enjoyed it.  Cleaning those tables also scored big time points with the Aide.  Plus one for me. 

I am a bit sad that as a Librarian, I didn't get to "SHUSH!" anyone.

I am tired, though.  Not going to work for a couple weeks has led to atrophy in my motivation muscles.  I need to watch that.  Next sub so far is for Friday- again with the Extra Help Teacher. 

Alas, the threat of Coach's Shorts is still viable.

DAY THIRTEEN: I can sub now

Not much on the job front today- about 10:30 this morning, I was called to see if I wanted to sub for the day.  Well, I guess, half the day.

So, it seems Monday I will start subbing if there are any openings.  I'm looking forward to it, and people have been asking if I think I can handle High School kids. 

My answer is:  Of course!  I spent seven years in youth ministry.  I learned some tricks.  Number one rule of working with teens:  You know everything that happens- there are no surprises.  Anyone reading this who is one of my former youth, this little secret is how I managed to stay on top of you guys. 

What I mean is that no matter what you actually do know- you know everything.  You'd be surprised how often that attitude eventually got the students to spill the beans accidentally.  And I know that you always listen, especially when it doesn't look like you're listening.

So in short, working with teens is kinda like being a spy.  Without tuxes or martinis.  Unless it's prom, but even then, still no martinis.

Kristin's subbing is going awesome.  She is gaining the kids' respect and in one case an "I <3 Mrs. Lehrman" note.  Each day things get brighter there, and I think the important people are taking note.  It has been great to see her come home with a smile of accomplishment and hope.

Well, that's all for this week. 

Hoping for more awesome next week.

PS- thanks everyone for reading.  I hope you enjoy it and it encourages you.  There is a Facebook group I started for the original incarnation, and I am now co-opting it for this blog.  So feel free to become a "fan" and share your own journeys of Rescue from Lesser Things, whatever they may be.  I'd love to get other people's stories and see what you've overcome or are going through.  Here's the link:


https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rescue-From-Lesser-Things/121565491284646

DAY TWELVE: Most Likely To Succeed?

My friend Eric and I met yesterday to finish talking about the Screwtape Letters.  It was actually the toast addendum to the proper novel, and it was spending a good deal of time and effort relating the concept that the demons wanted there to be no excellence among mankind.  That "all men are equal" would not be a virtue, but an excuse to view the exceptional as elitist and undemocratic, and for the normal joe to strive for mediocrity and not success.

This led us to discuss numerous things, not the least of which was the idea of success in our world.  Eric is a Ph.d candidate in education, and feels the pressure of success to be that he MUST reach the college level professionally and write tons of stuff that makes it in all the journals and be some big-time thinker in academic circles.  But, he wondered, what if real success is not to be known as that guy, but instead to be known as and remembered as a guy who loves his family and did right by them?

This morning, I was mowing my lawn and, since my best thinking often happens when mowing, I was pondering that conversation.  I felt that the very fact that at ten in the morning on a weekday I was at home mowing the lawn because I had no job was the very opposite of the world's view of success.  And I don't deny at all that the loss of a job- whether because of your fault or simply because of circumstances beyond your control- is a failure.  It is an anti-success.  I admit, calling myself a failure stings a bit.

Part of that is because in High School, I was voted Most Likely to Succeed.  Twice.

I realize that those things from High School carry less weight than a gnat on the moon, but that was a vital part of my identity back then, and even now.  I was the guy people expected big things from.  I was going to be a doctor or a lawyer- someone with plenty of money, nice home(s) and awesome cars.  I would be the guy that would never find himself fired, unemployed, living from paycheck to paycheck.

But I am.  And I have been all my adult life.  Well, not fired and unemployed, but lacking the other stuff and the paycheck to paycheck thing, definitely.

See, at some point in college, I decided (or felt called, if you're spiritual) to serve God.  I knew I would not join the corporate world or medicine (to be fair, medicine went out the window when I couldn't hack college Biology).  I knew that I would not have the material success the the High School Most Likely to Succeed winner was expected to have.  I would be viewed as a failure by many.

But I wouldn't be a failure.

And I am not a failure.

Except at being a tax collector, and I am OK with that.

Ministry life gave me a new kind of success.  I made a difference in peoples' lives.  There are students that got missed by everyone else that I was able to help for a season.  There are those people I talked with as Christ was talking to their heart.  There are young adults who as teenagers heeded a similar call to mine who I helped guide in some small way to serve teens, give years to rescue people half a world away trapped in lives that would make us shudder.  There are families that I sat with as their loved one passed away, and that I spoke words of comfort over as they were laid to rest.

Family life gave me another kind of success.  Each day I invest in helping to make two people become amazing human beings.  I see success in the way they become their own people- Leslie the driven athlete, Kenna the creative artist.  Both smart, both beautiful inside and out, both making it their world in their own way.  Each day I get to spend my life with Kristin, my perfect match, encouraging her and challenging her to be more than she thinks she (when I see so much in her).  And I get the benefit of her discretion and wisdom and hopefulness to balance my common cynicism.

Unemployment has made me successful at writing more.  Each day I sit before the screen and pour out my learnings for the day into this blog, I feel alive.  And though I often wish someone would discover my "amazing and inspired writings"  (that's my quote, no one else's) and I'd get to write for a living, I view the fact that I can write and draw joy from the act itself a success.

I pastor a church that is equipping college students to be what God intended.  Each time I sit with one of them and they share what new insight or question has arisen in their minds, I am refreshed.  Each time their passion for God is ignited, each time I see one of them pursue their vision for God's kingdom with success, I am a sharer of that success, if only vicariously.

I may not be the Most Likely to Succeed that my High School companions voted me to be, just like Eric may not be the success story typical of Academia- but we are still Most Likely to Succeed if we pursue the things that truly matter.

And I intend to do just that.

DAY ELEVEN: I'm so putting "House Husband" on the resume

Today was a day of finally completing the red tape to start subbing.  Since I've spent the last few days running all over town getting that stuff worked out, I decided that once my fingerprinting was done, I was going to enjoy the day.

So, I watched some Justice League cartoons and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.  It was OK.  Not as sharply written as the previous installments, and I gotta say, Tom Cruise in a hoodie stretches my suspension of disbelief.  He's fifty-something, right?  Yeah, he looks good for his age, but say no to the hoodie, middle-aged men.

Feeling a tiny bit guilty for my "Day Off," I decided to be a little productive.  Every day since Kristin got the long term sub position, I've made it my priority to have the den cleaned up when she got home, and the dishes at least in the dishwasher.  Today, I also kinda cleaned the bathroom. 

I don't tell you this to get points, I tell you this because although I've always known in my mind that stay-at-home parents work, now I know in a boots-on-the-ground way.  All those times Kristin has complained about laundry being the "neverending battle,"  I understand.  It really is magical (and by magical, I mean dark magic) how fast laundry reproduces.  And I believe dishes are under the same enchantment.

So, to those of you who do housework, I get you.  I respect you.  And I really feel you should get credit on your resume for this work.

It teaches character and persistence. 

And an awareness of the dark magic of household chores.

DAY TEN: Just to be clear, I'm not "afraid" of kids.

Kristin did in fact go back to the school as the music teacher this morning, so I took Kenna to Mother's Day Out.  I was asked if I was going to be taking Kristin's place- which I actually might, just to help out.  Don't get me wrong, I think kids are cool, but the younger the kid, the more difficult for me to relate.  Kristin taught younger twos.  That means I will be as awkward and uncomfortable as the stereotypical chess club president playing stereotypical varsity quarterback.  But I can take one for the team.

This afforded me something I've needed for awhile:  Uninterrupted writing time.  After making a "Nonfiction Writing" playlist on I-tunes, I was set.  For those curious, this playlist includes lots of David Crowder Band, Shane and Shane, U2, a little Boston, quite a bit of Mumford and Sons, and "Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas.  (To be fair, that last one is pretty much on any playlist I make- Rock, Workout, Driving, Sleep...)

I am learning that some things write easier than others.  Chapters on why you believe what you believe and the necessity of knowing the theology of the church in a bar you attend are not of that variety.  Chapters that discuss community by opening with a discussion of the TV show Cheers are much easier.  It just flows better.

After lunch I ran some errands, one more step toward subbing  and dropping off a resume for possible guest speaking opportunities among them.  Then I picked up the kids from MDO and school respectively.  At MDO, Kenna's teacher informed that Kenna had told her she didn't think I would sub because I said I was "afraid of kids."  Now, what I actually said was that I was not comfortable around little kids.  That's a significant difference, I believe.

Kristin returned home in a MUCH better mood.  It seems applying a bit of order works wonders.  Her hope is more evident now, so I think this will be a good experience.

After meeting someone for discipleship (we call it Immersion at our church), we took the girls to Leslie's school for Super Techno Science Night.  There were groups demonstrated engineering and biology and science experiments all over, and a Physics presentation that had kids fighting over toilet paper like candy at a parade.

I also learned this scientific fact:  The human taste buds mature in such a way that nacho cheese I loved as a kid now tastes like a metal can.

DAY NINE: Well, that's interesting...

So, Day Nine actually starts on Sunday.

We return home from church in the evening.  While I am preparing hot dogs for dinner in the kitchen, I hear Kristin making conflicted sounds from the den.  I define conflicted sounds as "Umms" and "Weeeeelllls" and "Ughs."

At first, I assumed Facebook had alerted her to a friend's poor choices.  But then I saw she was on the subbing website for College Station ISD.  Her conflict was this- there was a long-term sub position in music- meaning it pays twice the daily rate.  She has a job at Mother's Day Out that she loves on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  She would have to choose one or the other.  But before the choice was made, she called the number for more information.  The HR person she spoke with began asking questions like "Are you certified?" and "What is your teaching experience?"  These are not subbing questions that are mentioned in orientation.

Kristin decides to give it a shot, and works it out with her boss at Mother's Day Out (who is awesome, by the way.)  Incidentally, this may mean I will be doing some Mother's Day Out work.  That's right, me and little kids that are not my own.  This needs prayer.

So, this morning, Kristin heads off to work.  I am home with Kenna and enjoying a lazy, rainy day.  Deciding to make the most of it, I throw open the windows and turn on the I-tunes and start to write.  As I thundered away on the keyboard, the light drizzle of rain smattering on the fiberglass roof over the back porch and the smell of fresh rain wafting in the windows- it felt right.  Not just right- it felt like I should feel.  I didn't get as much done as I wanted, but it's a start.  I plan to make this priority one during my time off- I want to be a writer, that's the job I want to have.

Waiting for Kristin to get home, I check the mail, find I have my transcript that I needed to get closer to subbing myself, so Kenna and I head off to drop that off then pick up Leslie.  At home, we clean for Kristin so she has a semi-clean house when she gets home.

Which was a good thing, because Kristin was exhausted and a little stressed when she got home.  It was a rough day.  The upside is, there will be an opening this fall in this position, I have every confidence in my amazing wife that she will do a job so great they hire her before the end of this year.  Still, prayers are always appreciated.

It is almost like God is helping us out.  :)

That's a good way to start week three of unpaid employment, no?

DAY EIGHT: Hope Unexpected

Today I met with Kristin's cousin Cheryl about my resume.  She gave me some really good advice for cleaning up and tuning up the resume as well as some great advice about interview techniques.

Kristin was subbing today, so I had Kenna with me.  While at lunch with Cheryl, she was busy charming the OU Softball team that had stopped in for lunch.  After lunch, I caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror, sticking her tongue out.  When I asked what she was doing, she said- very matter of factly, "Trying to touch my nose with my tongue."  Its moments like these that I love about unemployment.

When we got home, I checked the mail.  Inside the box was a letter from a name I didn't know.  Inside was a note from a friend who is out of country right now.  Now, I've not seen this friend face-to-face in over four years, but we have kept in touch via Facebook and email.  He said he'd intended to send this sooner, but that he hoped it could help us out.  Enclosed was a check with an amount that floored me.  To some it would seem nothing, but to me it represented hope.  It was more than money, it was groceries, it was utilities, it was gas, it was...time.  I am so very thankful for this friend's generosity and compassion.  I don't know if he'll ever know how much.

This, and something Cheryl said at lunch got me thinking.  She told me that applying to A&M, I needed to be willing to make a full time job there my priority.  The problem is, I can't.  Any job I take is simply to pay for my church work.  It is a means to an end.  It's a bonus if it pays well and has benefits.  Never again will I take a job I can't stand, but it must be tertiary to my family and my church.  So, I began to think about getting through the summer.  I looked at the final paycheck from the firm, covering about two months pay, and at savings, covering one month, and the gift, and the other funds we know are coming.  If we budget right, and live cheaply, and find a relatively cheap insurance option and I find a part-time job, then we can stretch until Kristin gets a teaching job for the fall.  If we learn she doesn't get one- most likely this will be by early summer-ish- then it is full on search for full-time job.  But if not, why start a job I don't intend to finish?

We're still praying over this, and studying the option, but right now, we have a peace about this.  We still would love prayers for this season of our lives.

But as I told someone today- its easy to talk about trusting God, until you have to trust God.  Right now, faith in God is our only hope- and it is a good one.

DAY SEVEN: Rescued from Lesser Things

Aside from mowing the yard, today was uneventful.

I did decide not to keep the job with the audio company, it was going to be too few hours and too little notice- and lots of nights and weekends on the spur of the moment.  One of the most important things I do in life is to be there to put my kids to bed each night.  Missing here and there is no big deal, but missing often is.

Since today was low on the job news, I thought I'd take the chance to explain why I kept the blog title of Rescued From Lesser Things. 

I think it is a healthy way to look at life as a progression.  One thing is left for a better thing.  Most of the time, we choose these things- like beginning a new relationship and leaving single life behind or moving to a new, better house.  Sometimes the choice is made for us, like mine.  Now, in that instance, I could choose to view things as one of two ways:  1) That someone else crushed my life, or 2) That I was rescued from a lesser thing.

I choose the second.  For several years now, my job at the law firm was stifling me.  I had freedom with my schedule, but I never felt that I was in fact, free.  I was doing a job that never felt like it helped people.  Partly because I never bought the line that, " We help people keep taxes low by getting delinquents to pay."  As I did the job, I learned that there are, in fact, some jerks who just refuse to pay.  But a lot of people fall on hard times, get sick, or go through junk you and I could never endure.  Those people have the deck stacked against them, and then we piled on.

I want to help people.  Time was, I showed up and people liked what I had to say.  For the last four years, when people saw me at their door, they got bad news.  I was there to collect a paycheck earned on the misfortune of others.  (Yes, they did owe taxes, but they were still people to me- not numbers.  And that made it personal for me.)

I wanted out of the job, but as long as I had it, I had a tiny little bit of security.  I was picky with what jobs to look at.  I felt no pressure to actually find a new job.  I was trapped.

My boss didn't realize this when he fired me, but he rescued me.

Kristin noticed it Sunday as I spoke at church- there was a weightlessness and a joy that had been absent for a while.  I was doing what I loved knowing that I didn't have to go to work at a job I hated the next morning.

I was rescued from a lesser thing- for a better thing.

I'm still going to be picky and choosy about jobs, because my God, my family and my church come first.  But I need money to pay bills, so I pray for a job that will fit in those things, not share time with them- if that makes sense.

Sometimes, we can set ourselves free from the lesser things, the things that hold us back.  And sometimes we need to be rescued.

That's what this blog will be about.

DAY SIX: Job Fair is not as much fun as County Fair

Today definitely made up for the light job hunt day yesterday.  Though the morning was relaxing, around 1 everything kicked into gear.

I went to substitute orientation at the College Station ISD Admin building.  The AC was doing weird things, like switching from cool to heat within minutes, and the room was full of people.  Lots of recent grad looking people and a few of us decidedly not recent grads were there and eager to get jobs.  I gotta say, I'm glad to live in the College Station school district.  The community really stands behind the school, and loves it.  They fight for it, and the teachers who work in the district are great.  Now, all I have to do is get my transcript from A&M and get fingerprinted, and I can sub.

Then it was off to the job fair.  About a third of the people were in suits- like me.  Another third were in polos and khakis.  The final third apparently thought the 'fair' would involve rides and rigged contests for cheap stuffed animals.  There were probably fifty companies present, most of them not things I was qualified for.  I did get irritated with one company that took a resume, and when I was informed the job meant having to live out of a hotel in Killeen for half the year, I said I was not interested.  Yet they kept the resume.  That paper isn't cheap.

If did have two good conversations, though.  One was with the Texas A&M Health Science Center for a Communications position.  They took my resume, and told me to apply online and send a message when I did.  I take it that was a good sign.

The other one was with a radio station.  A Country radio station.  For the Morning Show DJ.  Despite it being several things I dislike (country music and mornings), it would pay pretty well and give me some freedom.

I also chatted with Bryan ISD about bus driving, and the cool part of that is that one of the people at the table was very interested in the fact that Kristin is a Special Ed teacher.  I am finding that my wife is far more employable than I am.

Here is what I want- I want to spend time with my family and have a free schedule.  Morning DJ could be that.  Bus Driver could be that.  Even Teacher's Aide could be that- all with benefits.  Writing would definitely be that, but with no guarantee for pay.  Much to ponder.

The other option that dawned on me this morning is I could train my cat who has an affinity for kneading people in the throat to knead people in the back.  I could video this and become a YouTube sensation.  There would be shirts, and memes, and a licensed massager with cat paws for the little balls.  So far the cat is uncooperative, but I think I can turn him...

DAY FIVE: ...zzz...zzzz...

Some days are full of revelations.

Some days you take a nap.

Today, I took a nap.

I did write some on the fiction book I've had on my mind.  I did fill out W-4s for the audio company job.  I did finally get the mulch for the front yard we'd been saving a gift card for.  My yard smells of pine trees now.  I did hang out with Daniel before our discipleship time watching the failed Wonder Woman pilot.  It was...not inspiring.

I guess I did learn (maybe relearn) taking a nap is bad for me.  It leaves me drowsy and unmotivated.  Not unlike watching that Wonder Woman pilot.

Tomorrow is a big day, so perhaps today is the calm before the storm.  I go to substitute teacher orientation at 1, then immediately rush across town for the Job Fair the Chamber of Commerce is doing.  So, I'm printing resume's tonight and preparing to wear a suit.  Which I used to love, but now only do for weddings and funerals.  And Job Fairs, I guess.

Prayers would be appreciated.

DAY FOUR: Yeah, I Need A Routine

I generally balk at routines and structure.  I like my freedom.

But I realized today just how easily I can fall into the mindset of, "I don't have to be at work at 8 on a Monday morning, so I can stay up later Sunday night."  I didn't even stay up that late, but the fact that I had nothing I "had" to do on Monday morning at 8 made it very hard to get going. 

I didn't want to do anything but lay in bed- not out of depression, but out of- well, let's call it what it is- laziness. The bed felt much better than getting dressed.  But I did, finally, get up, work out, and set about cleaning the house and folding laundry.

Despite my disaffection for routine, I am a creature of habit.  I don't think that makes me a hypocrite- just complex.  I define it this way- routines are imposed upon you, habits are of your own making.

So, I am forming a habit.  I need to write and do housework and workout, and job hunt.  These must be the things I fill my day with.  But- and this is the fine line- I also need to set aside time to rest in my job-free existence.  Soak up those short of moments of total freedom with thing I want to do.  Watch a show, play disc-golf, read, play a video game.  Do things I won't have as much time for when gainfully employed.  Sort of a treat for doing the other stuff. 

See, now I have a rewards system.

I also have a job- sort of.  I am going in tomorrow to fill out some paper work for the Audio company.  I'm calling myself a "wire monkey."  I hope it catches on.

DAY THREE: I'm not so bad off

It's Good Friday.

I've spent most of this week feeling kinda down, kinda attacked.  I've dealt with it pretty well, but I definitely feel pressed and crushed at times. 

But there have been blessings.  A wonderful gesture from a friend for the sake of my children, contact from a great friend I've missed for a while.  Kristin getting a heads up about a possible teaching job.  A visit from my mom that merited a free meal at Chuy's. 

And, it is Good Friday.  A day we remember the greatest sacrifice of all time.  A day of darkness that had to come for there to be light.  The kind gesture Jesus got was someone carrying the instrument of His death for a bit, the contact He got was from blow after blow from abusive Romans.  The heads up He got was words of assault.  The free meal a sponge with wine-vinegar so He could speak "It is finished."

And then He died.

No, losing a job is not so bad.

But then, today is just Friday.  It is but a pause before the glorious Sunday to come.

DAY TWO: Not Unemployed, Unpaid

Getting out of bed wasn't the problem today.  I had a kid I had to get to school on time, so I was up and going pretty quick.  By ten, I had worked out, mowed the yard (note to self:  never do these back to back again), and gotten a shower.  More productive than I'd ever been before ten at my old job.

It was while mowing and thinking about the day (Mowing is when I do some of my best thinking.  And I almost never run over flowers or small trees because of it.), that this new thought struck me:

I'm not unemployed, just unpaid.

Now for me this is easier to claim than others, perhaps, because I do have a full time job as the pastor of a church- a totally volunteer position.  For a long time now, I've been longing for more time to devote to my church and especially the needs of its small congregation.  I was already meeting with three students weekly, and a fourth had just asked to start.  These were in addition to a weekly meeting with the friend I'm reading the Screwtape Letters (and other books) with.  There are some big things coming for the church that will need more time, and there just wasn't any left after work, family, and the current church load.  Plus, there's that book I want to write that I have no time for.

Except, I realized as the whirring rotors of the mower trimmed my green grass to a manageable height, I do now.

So I am not unemployed, just unpaid.

Spurred by this positive realization, I began thinking of ways to make actual use of this freedom while I had it.  I would start by adding that fourth student to my meeting list.  And then make time to write, and plan.

I then went to a job interview for a part-time position with a sound engineering company.  Basically, I'd be a cable wrangler and sound tech trainee on call.  It wouldn't be much money, but it would be some, and it would be helping learn a new skill.  I need more of those anyway.

After lunch, I met with Chase and we chatted about life and plans.  Yep, this is employment.  And it's what I love to do.  I love spending time encouraging and engaging people on a deeper level than the weather and  the sports.  I also love writing.  I love that feeling when words bubble up and just flow from my mind, through my fingers, and onto a screen that then shoots those words all over the world.  I love it when something I say, or something I write matters to people- even in small ways.  I love it when I make people think about their lives, their struggles, their gifts they've yet to display to the world- but so very much want to.  I love when my attempts to reach other people result in me learning something about myself. 

Now, if I could just find a way to make THIS employment lucrative enough to pay the bills...

On a less positive note, we took the kids to gymnastics tonight and they sent home flyers for a gymnastics meet that costs $35.  Our oldest loves gymnastics, and is really good.  The look of disappointment (on both of their faces) that we couldn't afford to go, and that we weren't even sure if we could afford a summer pool pass because of the current situation broke my heart.  And made me angry.  Hours before I was fired, my former boss sat talking about the new house he was building (while currently owning two, though trying to sell them) and all the money they had to spend, as well as all the money he spends for his daughter (same age as our youngest).  Talking of things, and knowing what was coming for me, strikes me as insensitive.  I know I need to let it go, but right now, I don't want to.  What was done to me was done to my family, not just me. 

And that's hard to forgive.

DAY ONE: Getting Out of Bed is Hard

Yeah, it's tough that first day.

To be fair, I hate getting out of bed most days, but today was especially difficult.  Part of it was the overwhelming nature of things- so much to do, so little time and money to get them done.  It was like, "If I stay in bed, I prolong having to start this new chapter.  I'm excited about it, but scared, too.  And the bed is comfy and warm, the world is cold and painful."

So I turned on the Today Show.  Apparently, there are rumors Ryan Seacrest will replace Matt Lauer on the Today Show.  Also, Seacrest is responsible for the Kardashians shows- this is disappointing.  Eventually, I grow bored with this, and start psyching myself up for starting to live.  Because I realize if I don't get out of bed today- if I do nothing today- I set a precedent.  And it would be a bad one.

So, I get up, I get my daughter who's home her breakfast, I work out, I wrote on the blog.  I watch Justice League cartoons.  After lunch, my wife Kristin gets back from subbing in our oldest daughter's class.  We finish watching Elizabethtown- great movie about death and getting fired and road trips.  Then I begin looking into more jobs.  Alternative certification to teach is harder than I thought (cursed again by a Speech Communications degree).  Filled out an application for Academic Advisor at A&M- was immediately told I was not qualified.  Can't start subbing for at least a week, so no point in doing any legwork there.

Met with my friend Eric- we're reading the Screwtape Letters together.  We didn't talk about that this week, he simply let me vent.  I appreciate Eric.

Got some Easter stuff for the kids from Walmart- and a part to fix a runny toilet.  Then fixed said toilet.  See, I'm not completely useless.

I decided I need to take all this free time I now have that I wanted and work on that book I've wanted to get published.  It's called "A Church Walks Into Bar" and it's about our church, the Gate, that meets at Hurricane Harry's.  Each chapter is the punchline to the joke title, and it's about the cool and difficult things that happen in a church like ours.  I figure I can finish it up in a week, have it published by the end of the month and on the bestseller's list by June.  That's realistic, right?

Had our church small group at our house.  It's called Conversations and has more rabbit trails than a forest- but it's good, life affirming stuff.  Even the randomness.

We've put the kids to bed, and soon I'll put me to bed.  Wait, there's a phone call.  One of the guys from church works with a Sound Engineering Company, and they might be able to find something for me, temporarily at least.  Hmmm.

Perhaps tomorrow the getting up will be easier.
Especially if there's nothing good on the Today Show.

So That's What It Feels Like to Get Fired

{Up until now, Rescued from Lesser Things had been a blog going through the Psalms. Due to changes in my life, it is about a new struggle that is all too common in our modern society- being unemployed. It will be about the hopes and the frustrations, the victories and the setbacks. And hopefully, it will be short lived.}

I’ve never been fired before.

I take some consolation in the fact that most people are fired at some point in their lives- some for malfeasance, some for budget cuts, some on the whims of their employers.

As I stood looking at my now former boss explaining that our working arrangement wasn’t, in fact, working, I felt little pins all over my face, and a rising heat in my face. As he detailed just why I was being let go, any hint of shock was driven out by a feeling of righteous indignation. What he was saying was …just not right. And so, I entered the first emotion of being fired.

Anger

In January, I was, for the first time, told that my work was netting the results they should. I was working hard, but not on the right things. I was told this only when, after two years of no raise, I asked my boss why. As I had done the previous year, and been completely ignored. This time, he addressed me over a breakfast and told me I had until the end of April to figure it out. Taking his directions, I proceeded to do just as he’d asked. I monitored all that I did and saw the results he had asked for.

So it was surprising to me that the third day of April I was being told that my results weren’t changing. That’s when anger rose up. At that first meeting in January, I had sat silently and listened to the accusations, and was agreeable to the changes, even though at the time I had plenty of evidence that there was no merit to the charges- or at least, that the charges were ignoring that other factors were at play I had no control on. Now, I was not going to sit by and take it. I countered that I had implemented all the changes he requested, and could show proof. Then he brought up a phone conversation he had overheard with someone our law firm was filing suit on. He accused me of saying when asked why I posted a note on the door of one of the defendants properties that “It is company policy, and if you want to know why, ask our manager.” When in fact what I said was, “Its company policy to alert anyone living at the site in the suit of the legal action and to determine by posting on the door of the residence a note. If you have a problem with that, you will need to speak with our office manager .” I pointed this out, and he denied that’s what I said. Then, the third thing- the thing I think was at the heart all along was said- they wanted to hire an attorney full time to do the job I was doing. (My wife Kristin pointed out that if they needed a full time attorney just to do what I was doing, I was- as a legal assistant- grossly underpaid.)

Suddenly, what I expected since January was confirmed- no matter what I did, I was not going to save this job. I called him on that, I had counter-pointed every one of his accusations and shown there was no basis for his firing me- yet it was going to happen. I pointed out that there were other employees in violation of company policy- he brushed it aside. Then I realized- I am fighting for a job I hate, that has been sucking my soul dry for years- I was already trying to find other jobs and a teaching job for my wife so I could take a part-time job or a teacher’s aide position so I could have more time to spend with my family and to pastor the church I volunteer to lead. Then the second emotion hit.

Freedom
I was free.

No more driving to work in a hole fifteen minutes from home. No more doing what I didn’t love. I was free to find a new job that allowed me to use my talents and gifts. To find a job that better suited me. In the meantime, I could work more on building our church. I could spend better, more quality time with my wife and kids instead of coming home emotionally drained and often angry from the job I didn’t like. I would miss my co-workers, who I really liked and got along with, but my family and the church we started were my priority.

Before I left the meeting, I was already thinking of the possibilities. Until I got a permanent job, I could substitute teach, I could try to do more pulpit supply, I could watch my kids while Kristin subbed, I could get my certification to teach.

Most importantly, I was free from the mental stress of a job that made me feel worse about myself. See, I was a tax collector. When I talked to people, it was only to bring bad news. I’m a minister, and I want to offer people hope and encouragement and good news- point them to the light. My day job was contrary to my core identity in so many ways that it was affecting my relationship with God.

Now, I was free.

Free to do whatever I wanted.

As long as I could pay the bills. Which is where the third emotion hit.

Anxiety
It’s a terrible time to find a job. Even if I get one at the school, and my wife does as well, then that’s August before we start, September or later before we get paid. We have savings and severance to last for about three months- without the new need to pay for health insurance.

I have been the sole or primary wage earner for my family for the last nine years. Things have always been tight financially, and I am struck with the reality that it will be leaner than ever. Even though we have been wise with our money, owing only for a house and a car, with no credit card debt or (luckily) no medical debt or student loans (thanks to awesome parents) we stand at the brink of serious financial ruin.

And I have no idea what to do, or if it will work out at all.

As a Christian, the church answer is to trust God. And I do. But I also understand that God has not always saved the faithful from ruin and suffering- ask John the Baptist. Ask Jesus. It is too simple to say my anxiety is gone because I place my cares on God’s shoulders- that’s just not true. Maybe I need to trust God more, maybe I need more faith- actually, I know those to be true, no maybes there. But I also want to be honest with my fears and my worries- to God and to others.

I don’t have all the answers, nor will I pretend I do. What I will be is transparent and honest. Sometimes I will offer hope, other times I will vent. If you find yourself in the same boat as me, perhaps we can journey together, and may we all find our hope sooner rather than later.