Saturday, October 27, 2012

House of Blues

These are pictures of my cubicle:
Not a metaphoric or symbolic cubicle.  Not an internet pic that looks like my cubicle.  But my cubicle.

Yup, that's my inbox, the honey for my green tea, my cereal bowl and my pile of work that has overflown onto the....
floor.  It's where I sit when I dream of muttering TGIF.  It's the location I try to forget on weekends and PTO days...and on a Saturday in January of 2012 this is where I lost it for one moment in time.


In October of 2011 I started actively looking to redirect my career path.  It seemed that my career had peaked.  There were other practical options, but my dedication to my occupation wasn't strong enough to endure additional certifications or student loans.  I wasn't committed enough to envision myself voluntarily submitting to cramming sessions, term papers, deadlines and group projects.  I didn't want to advance in my current field, I wanted to find a new one; and I had a specific position in mind.  All I needed was to get my foot in the door.  I filled out my application, sent in my resume and I waited....

I took to prayer because "The prayers of the righteous availeth much." James 5:6

I confessed my sins and attempted to put my best foot forward because "If I had cherished sin in my heart the Lord would not have listened" Psalm 66:18

I waited patiently.  I waited for a call that never came.  I waited to wedge my foot in a door that was never opened.  I waited for a door that was not opened unto me.  I waited until what I dreaded became a reality.  I had done what I could, but January had come.  January, in my profession, comes with promises of seventy hour work weeks..  January had come with it's guarantee of repetitive time consuming tasks.  January was smothering me and despite my best efforts to land in Joppa, January had me in Ninevah sitting in that cubicle.

Everyday in that cubicle became more than a 15 hour work day.  Everyday in that cubicle was a reminder that the God that answers prayer had ignored mine.  Everyday in that cube was the torture of feeling as though I had wasted another of the days allotted to me on this earth.  Everyday in that box was a day living in agony that God didn't love me enough to provide me with a sense of purpose.  I didn't want a winning lottery ticket or a get out of work free card.  I didn't want to be the boss or to have people answering to me.  All I wanted was an end to the seemingly endless stream of what felt like wasted days.  In my mind, those days had no value, and with 5 of every 7 days of my life having no value I had no value.  My Mom would call that a pity party and I was the guest of honor.

When I left for work at 5:00 am on Saturday January 28, 2012, my heart was burdened.  Whenever I have to work on Saturday I attempt to arrive by 5:30.  By doing that, most Saturdays I am able to meet my work obligations by noon and return home before my children have shed their Friday night pajamas.  I didn't think that would be the case this Saturday.  I knew that my day would consist of no less than 12 hours of work so when early morning snow showers caused an accident; I knew that my family wouldn't see me much that day.  Still, I arrived at approximately 6:30 and sat down to work.

Coworkers started pouring in around 8 am.

Supervisors arrived closer to 10.

Noon came, the time when I look to pack up and escape from work for 36 hours...but I wasn't packing it up.  Life was pouring it on.

Around 3:00 pm coworkers called it a day.  The bosses stayed until 6.

Here I was, 12 hours into my day alone in my cubicle trying to make sense of both the piles of paper accumulated on my desk and the status of my life; sacrificing time with my family for time alone in an office I desperately wanted to escape from.

7:00 pm still working.  I blared gospel music from my Ipod hoping that God would give me a "Beautiful Mind" moment where He would finally let me see the picture the mosaic of paper formed on my desk.

8:00 pm, I stop wanting the right answers and I just want answers.

9:00

At 10:00 pm I didn't care.  I no longer wanted answers only deliverance.  I began crafting an e-mail detailing all the breakdowns that led to me working a 90 hour week.  I scrapped that e-mail early in favor of one that simply read, "I quit."  I looked at the picture of my children on my desk; my inspiration to push through whatever arises in my life.  I couldn't quit, yet I couldn't succeed.  Anger gripped me as I felt both helpless and forsaken.  If only it was me in that accident that morning; then my life insurance policy would cement me as a provider but I wouldn't have to deal with this.

I tried to push through, but the mosaic's picture became more murky with each pass.  At 11:00pm I decided I was done.  I had just spent the better part of 17 hours attempting to finish an assignment that was a day past due.  Additionally, I had no intention of working on Sunday.  I e-mailed my supervisors.  "I've done all I can.  I'll look at this again on Monday."  I shut my computer down and drove home; expecting that Monday would come with news of my termination.  That was okay with me because I didn't care why I left, I just wanted to leave.  

I was never asked to leave.  I was never forced to leave.  I was never given other opportunities.  No doors have been opened, and I battle constantly with the self perceived notion that I've wasted the last six years.

So why write a blog entry about that?  There's no resolution, no happy ending.  How can this blog entry possibly encourage anyone?  To be encouraged you have to read carefully what I said I do.

I battle.  While I'm not sure about my professional life, I have clear cut responsibilities in the other facets of my life.   In the midst of sulking over the void I perceive in my professional life I was failing as a husband, as a father, a son, a friend, a brother and a Christian.

In 1 Samuel 15 God rejects Saul as king because of Saul's disobedience.  While Samuel is obedient in relaying God's message, Samuel is disappointed that Saul, his long time advisee, was no longer going to be king.  Simply put, Samuel was upset that that things weren't going the way he wanted them to.  In 1 Samuel 16 God asks Samuel a direct question.

HOW LONG WILL YOU MOURN!!!!!!

God is telling Samuel to get himself together because he has work for him to do.  Maybe you're like me, utterly frustrated and exhausted with one facet of your life.  Maybe you're frustrated with more than one facet of your life.  However things may be, residing in a "House of Blues" can cause you to fail in all aspects of life.

As for the troubling facets of your own life, I have no answer.  I wish it were as simple as "speaking peace or purpose into your life."  I have no answer because I am still battling.  What I can tell you is that your worry conflicts with your understanding God's sovereignty.  Easier said than done, but the only thing I can tell you is to continue to trust God.

Samuel trusted God, even though he died before seeing David ever take the throne.  When Samuel dies, Saul is still the King.  Oddly enough, David, despite being one of the major characters and authors of the bible, has no books named after him.  The life and death of David are chronicled in the book of 2 Samuel, a book that begins after Samuel's death.  Why does a book that begins after the death of Samuel bear his name?  Maybe because he was able to trade in his blues for belief...belief in God's sovereignty.

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