It is no secret that I am in financially struggling along with the 20% of America that is under or unemployed. I had a new found hope as I recently interviewed for a manager's position. I was perfectly qualified. I gave the interview of a lifetime. The regional VP's that interviewed me said I was a "hell of a candidate." I thought there would be, for at least for some brief moment, some financial peace.
Instead, I got the form e-mail today that said, "Thank you for your interest in ************ and for giving us the opportunity to interview you on Thursday, September 15. After careful consideration, we regret to inform you that we have decided to pursue other candidates that more closely fit the requirements of this position."
In shameless surrender I have to say that the news did make me cry. It certainly stirs feelings of inadequacy. It gives me empathy for those how have given up looking for a job in that I have sent out some 300 - 500 resumes myself. But in the tears all I hear is the scripture above.
The Holy Spirit doesn't say it to me in those exact words, but He does say, " I know the plans I have for you. For your good and not for evil..."
Even though the job I didn't get had an adequate salary, it was not the perfect job. It is also beyond peculiar that I was thinking and praying about that "perfect job" this morning. For me it would be writing, and for my books to supply an income. For those same books to open doors to preach to hundreds and to thousands. But more, that there would be enough income that I could still find and minister to the Robert's, and Lilly's. That I could meet new Jim's, and Liz's, and Birmy's, and Arron's, and Ken's, and Paul's, and so many more.
The perfect job would be to bring dignity to the undignified. To bring identity to the forgotten. To make a difference in the life of an individual. The perfect job would be what LT told me today.
LT was a black man I picked up and gave a ride to this morning. Limping, in a suit, walking along the highway I had to ask if he needed a ride. He did, and was headed to the bank.
I asked him what He did for a living because along with the suit he was also wearing a white apron around his waist.
He said, "I preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. I don't get paid, but God told me He would pay me in the end."
He did not have a car. He couldn't walk more than 20 or so steps without resting because his right foot was run over, mangled looking, with a distinctive twist right of his body. But LT had a smile on his face. LT had a fire in his belly. And LT was more than willing to share with me is fiery preaching as he left my company.
That's a good job. And a better one, that the one I was passed up on today.
Growing up, Katherine Yuna, Hugh S. Johnson, and me use to watch "Worlds Strongest Man" and we would all agree that dad could beat the crap out of any of the competitors. I still believe that. I look at you and see strength that goes beyond... the physical; you are strong in every way and you represent the vision of God's unfailing love in my life. I compare every man to you, not because you are perfect, but because you are strong in admitting to your frailty and dependence on Christ. My respect for you deepens as I get the chance to watch God's seemingly unmerciful plan unfold in your life; all the while knowing that it is leading to a moment of redemption and sheer glory. I love you Dad! You're my hero!
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