God has been good...But that's been the only good in my life since...Well...Since I've gotten out of school: I've been looking for a place of employment (practically) every day since 2 Mondays ago... It's very draining and I am sick to my stomach because I'm nervous and insecure when it comes to places of work.
Not that work worries me, but I'm afraid that I might turn out like someone I know due to work, I want to work, but not the way he works. My prayer life has been selfish; I've been praying for one of the places I've applied for to call me back, and other things like this- I need to step out, get a breather and recollect my marbles.
This all may seem very redundant, but my life at this time is a small universe that spins without skipping a beat and the path in which it travels is the same things for the most part, day in and day out.
I'd like to blog more, but I have applications to fill out and I need to pray; Pray for this mess called life, pray for my family and all the complicated details in regards to them and us as a whole...
God is good,
but life at this time is not.
(and I already feel God using these hardships for something better, I'm a slow learner, but like Samuel from the Bible - 1 Samuel 3:10 "Speak, for your servant is listening.")
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Young, unemployed student during summer break, totally dysfunctional family, locally friendless, and the hot, steamy Illinois summer coming on, and worst of all, not yet a Christian… yeah, that was me in the summer of 1968 going into college as a freshman. But I did eventually land a job…
Dad was the assistant superintendant of the Wheaton Post Office. He got me a job on the evening shift, sorting parcels and loading/unloading trucks. Did I mention I was a 6'1" beanpole weighing in at a mere 140 pounds? The physical demands of the job nearly killed me. A twenty-something year old female nymphomaniac tried to seduce me. "Come over to my house after work and I'll show you my Israeli stamp collection." Yeah, right! I didn't fall for that one! (Thank God!) By and by, she ended up seducing a married supervisor, whose wife divorced him, and he married the girl. At least he kept her off the streets!
I wasn't even 18 yet! Dad let me drive his new 1968 Plymouth station wagon to work for the night shift. He drove the "junker" to his normal office hours job. On a drizzly night, I got off work a little after midnight and started driving home. Somewhere on Naperville Road I took a curve too fast… and I rolled Dad's new station wagon into the ditch, bouncing it once on its head, smashing out the windshield completely, crushing down the roof, lost my glasses (I am extremely nearsighted), but the vehicle landed on its wheels!
I was shocked! "O God, why is this happening to me? How will I get home? What will Dad say? He's gonna KILL me! It's all over! Why couldn't I have rolled the car just a bit further and fallen into the river? O God, save me!"
After sitting there in the dark for a few minutes (my head really hurt 'cause when I flipped over, it hit the ceiling, ouch!), it just occured to me to try to turn on the ignition and see what happened. Huh! It started! Did I still have headlights? Yep! Were the tires still there? Yep! Where were my glasses? I couldn't find them.
There was simply no traffic at that hour. There was grass and dirt stuck into the edges of where the windshield and windows used to be, and the roof of the car was about 6 or 8 inches closer to the top of my head, and all crumpled. The car continued running. I started driving it slowly and sideways up the inclined side of the gully (it was more than a ditch, really). But I was able to get out! Wow! Could I drive this thing home, without being able to see anything except bright fuzzies? I gave it a try.
A half an hour later, I drove the badly damaged car into our carport. The carport light was on, and so were the kitchen lights. I was probably an hour late, and that was probably Mom waiting up for me. I parked the car, managed to open the dented door and got out. Before I reached the kitchen door, it opened. Mom peeked out, her thick black hair tightly pinned against her scarf-covered head. "Norm, is that you?"
I approached, bruised, almost crying, and scared as heck. "Mom, I've had an accident, but I'm okay." Mom looked out a little more carefully. "Oh Norm, what happened to the car? Where's the windshield? Why is the roof all dented and pushed down?" I started crying, "Mom, I rolled it! And my glasses are gone too!" (What a dork I was!)
"We'd better wake up your father, tell him what happened, and ask him what to do." I was more than terrified. She sent me into his room, alone. "Dad, wake up! It's Norm. I've had an accident. I totalled your car, but I got it home." Before I could say, "Please don't kill me," he came to, quietly asked, "Son, what happened?" I lied, "Dad, there must have been oil slick on the road or something. I wasn't driving fast, but on this curve, I just lost control and rolled the car into a ditch. It's a mess!" Dad was quiet a moment. He sat up, put on his trousers and said, "Let's go, Norm, and you show me where it happened."
We got into his jalopy and returned to the scene of the accident. There, lying spread out and flat and in a million clinging pieces was the windshield. He carefully went down on his hands and knees and felt for the corner of the windshield where the license stickers were. When he found it, he yanked that chunk off the windshield and left the rest lying there. "We can't let the police find this license sticker, or you'll get into trouble." We then got back into the car and he drove us home.
Next day, he arranged to have me work the day shift so I could drive to work with him in his junker. My new job was the dead letter and undeliverable magazines desk, where I could be kept an eye on, and not damage my weak and bruised little frame of a body.
Dad never reported the accident. He just cancelled the insurance and used the Plymouth wagon for spare parts. I never did find my glasses.
Yes, Nathanael, God is good, even when everything else seems bad. Hang in there, brother, and don't bother blogging. Write me, if you want to, about anything. I take you in with me when I go into the Father's throne room, and please, you do the same for me. Life is a very mixed wine right now. I need His help too.
Go with God, and on His strength alone.
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