Churchin It Up

Another of the many blessings the hubaloo and I experienced since moving to Oregon was a church.

This was something we had been praying about for a very long time, even before we moved.  But once we got here, the search was on because neither of us wanted to go too long without church, plus… we need friends baaaad.  So we tried a couple in the first few weeks, and failed miserably.

The first one we left without ever entering because we sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes watching everyone enter, and they were all older than our parents (don’t judge us).  Neither of us have a problem with the “mature” generation; I actually strongly desire a church with a good older presence because they are the wisest of the bunch.  That being said, we didn’t feel the church would be especially “relevant” to us, or however that is said in a politically correct way. 

At the next church we went to, they not only sang happy birthday to someone in the middle of the service, they also spent a full 30 minutes airing their (and all their friends, family, and distant relative’s) dirty laundry.  Alas, we are no good at church shopping.

So finally, we found a hipster church that still had a good foundation of those older and wiser than us young’uns.  But it was far away and too large for my better half’s tastes.  

We began investigating two church plants- one being planted by the hipster church much closer to where we live, and one even farther away but being planted by someone who attended the seminary at my dear alma mater.

Now let me give some context.  For several weeks prior to this stage of the process, I had been struggling with some pretty big things.  I was reading Shane Claiborne’s book TheIrresistible Revolution (highly recommend it) and feeling incredibly discontented about my life.  I was really unhappy with the church as a whole, as well as my own goals and the direction I felt my life was headed in.  I wanted to get my hands dirty and really live the gospel.

Well, we emailed and facebooked (not a real verb yet) and dined with people to discover more about both churches.  One of the pastors explained what his church was all about, and it literally spoke directly to the frustrations I had been feeling. 

The church is in a not-so-great area of Portland, and it exists mainly to serve the community.  There are very few preconceived notions about what “church” should look like, they just want to be the hands and feet of Jesus.  And though the mr. wasn’t sharing my hesitancy about church finances and politics, he found this church provided him with a much-needed sense of belonging, as they were looking for people with his specific talents.

We feel so lucky to finally be involved, and in the spirit of camaraderie and non-horror movie longings, I WILL befriend these people!

It's Party Time!

So back to the pity party with me, myself, and my computer with 26 tabs opened to different jobs.

I kept hoping I would read a job description and think, “That’s it!!  My destiny all wrapped up in 60 words or less!” No such luck.

So finally I turned to my safe zone.  Nannying.  I was not thrilled about this prospect, but applied partly out of desperation and partly because of that voice in my head screaming, “Get out before the cat pillows and embroidered cat sweaters get you first!”

I applied for a couple of jobs that I thought might actually be fun.  No word.  I got a couple of messages from moms interested in my profile, but none of them fit what I was looking for except one. So I responded to that one, while still applying to others I thought would be more fun.

Well, what do you know, I finally got an interview with the not-so-fun-looking job.  I interviewed, loved the family, and loved the kids!  I could work part time and still make more than I was hoping to make, plus they gave me some vacation days and paid holidays!

The final dilemma was the car situation.  I would need the car twice a week, but if I had it, my dear other half would have to work for more than 9 hours those days.  Well, here’s the kick in the pants, reader. 

Three weeks before my job starts, my hubbub gets called into a meeting where they tell him he can now work from home one day a week, any day he chooses.  Hallelujah and thank you Jesus, problem solved. (He works just one long day and gets a short day in return, which he needs in order to pick me up in time from the job. Could it get any more perfect?)

And after all my whining and complaining (and a dash of sulking), I realized God had done exactly what I asked him to do.  Never once did I get an interview with Starbucks or any other nanny job.  He opened the doors, and gave me a great job.

An awesome God, indeed.

Be Careful What You Wish For

The second blessing God gave us came in the form of my job.

When we moved, I gave myself a couple of weeks to settle in and figure out what I wanted to do.  But when the time came to get a job, it roared into town with a fury!

All of a sudden, I didn’t want a job, I needed a job.  What was I doing all day?  Why did I suddenly become so boring? Where is my life going? What if I forget how to talk to people? HowlongbeforeIbecomeacrazycatlady?? I was bored and lonely and needed desperately to get out of the house.  So the search began.

But not so fast, I had a couple of problems.

Problem #1- Hubby and I share a car.  He has a full-time job which he uses said car to get to.  Me=carless. Therefore, I needed a job that was either within walking distance or on the way to his job with magical hours that perfectly coincide with his.

Problem#2- I haven’t the slightest idea what to do with my life.  I got a degree in early childhood education because I really like hanging out with kids. I discovered, however, that I do not enjoy teaching them.  They are much more fun to hang out with than to teach.

So Google and I became very good friends.  Monster.com and careerbuilder.com were invited to the party as well.  I prayed and prayed and prayed over this (thus far nonexistent) job.  I prayed very specifically (which I rarely do) that whatever God wanted me to do, he would open the doors, because I hadn’t the slightest clue. Even MORE specifically, I prayed that if he didn’t want me to get the job, I wouldn’t even get an interview.

In my floundering, I turned where most directionless recent-grads turn: Starbucks.  There were two within walking distance, I worked in food service for many years, and I really do like the coffee shop atmosphere.  I applied, feeling pretty confident (here’s where that college degree pays off *nudge nudge*), and mentally gave myself a week to hear back from them.

A week came and went, and nothin’.  So what’s a stir-crazy housewife with no kids and barely any “house” to do?

Sulk.  That’s what.  But all the pouting in the world didn’t give me a job, so back to the drawing table, friends.

(There really is a blessing in all this.  I’ll get to it next time.  If you’re going to stick around, you may as well know that I don’t know how to make a long story short, but boy oh boy do I know how to make a short story long.  Need proof?  Look how long this parenthetical paragraph is.)