Clarity

Some of you know this and some of you gathered this from my last post, and some of you don't care but the truth is: I am applying to be a 911 Telecommunicator (or dispatcher, if you like) and have been for some time (PHEW what a relief to get that off my chest). I put in my first application when I moved here in June, and have been going to tests and interviews since September, back when I was a wee lad of just 23 years.

Some of you know this, too: I am very ready to have a decent job, and to earn a living. Now that I'm a fully mature man of 24, this seems to be right and proper. I have not written much about this "decent job" that I am seeking because it would be embarrassing not to get hired and then to have this failure memorialized in digital form.

This job really would be a dream come true, though. The job description is "helping people." I would get to talk to a lot of strangers each day, probably often in Spanish. The pay is respectable and more than sufficient. And frankly, it would be a nice end to this losing streak I can't seem to shake.

And so. I had a moment of clarity last Wednesday when we opened 1 Peter (written to a bunch of people stuck in one big losing streak) to read, "set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed." It hit me then that I have been putting a bit too much hope into this job, and indeed into a lot of things that are all, simply put, beside the point.

While I still very much want this job and the chance to help people (not to mention the chance to pay my rent consistently), there are better things ahead. It would be easy to become very stressed about this and whether or not I get hired, but when put in perspective of heaven I know it is a want and not a need.

But I DO need a decent job; I will allow that. Hopefully it will come sooner than later, just like heaven.

Honesty

So I am kicking myself.

Yesterday was going to be a triumphant and productive day. It certainly wasn't the former and possibly wasn't the latter.

First the minor buoy that kept the day from going completely under: I changed my library card into a permanent one after using a "Guest" card for three years. It became clear that I needed to do this when I tried to use my card recently, only to find it again expired. The lady asked if I had a permanent address yet, and I said I did but didn't have a local Driver's License to prove it. That day I happened to be unshaven and wearing an oversized, green flannel jacket that is very warm but not flattering in the slightest, and this combined with my seemingly transient status led the lady to lean in and ask, "This address we have for you. . .is it a shelter?"

I deflated a bit and informed her that I am not homeless. I just don't have a license. So now I have a license and a library card, and I am shaving regularly.

After the library, I had a follow-up interview with a potential employer for a great job. We went to lunch and had a great talk about work, life, and spiritual matters like theodicy and fate. He spoke very highly of me and my credentials, and we got on very well. So he gave me the job, and I was very excited to work for him. But then I felt inclined to be honest (hence the title of this post) and told him that I might, in the future, be offered a job with the city as a 911 Telecommunicator. At this, he decided to reconsider hiring me.

So a job that I don't have and that I may not ever have might keep me from getting a decent job in the meantime.

Then I went to get Colorado license plates. They asked when I first entered the state, and so I told them the truth. Based on my honesty, they charged me an extra hundred dollars in late fees.

Can you put a price on integrity? Because at this rate I may truly be homeless soon.

Amplify

Recently I've received a few emails with new, encouraging comments that have been posted here on my blog. Whether these are real or merely the well-meaning and unimaginative attempts of my sister to goad me into posting more, they are appreciated.

I've been sick or sick-ish for a few days now which is frustrating for me to reconcile with my typically indomitable immune system.

It is also frustrating in how illness has the odd effect of amplifying all the trivialities and minor impulses that a stronger man would ignore. Be they the unglamorous banality of bachelor life (cue me eating a piece of toast, leaning over the sink so as not to have a plate to wash), the ache for family over holidays, or the bruise of a freshly broken trust covered over by excuses.

And how it amplifies my impatience. I am anxious for a better job that will fulfill, enrich and contribute to Creation (not to mention justify the four years of college). I am anxious to be able to support myself and to be able to support and help others. I am anxious for change in my church, an end to the laziness I see around me and in me. I am anxious.

But at least being sick offers a convenient excuse for all these feelings, which I still will feel when well. Oh, how we all love excuses.