Tomorrow, the fam is driving across the great state of Missouri for a job interview. That's right, folks, a job interview! Well, an informal job interview, but an interview nonetheless. I don't want to get into it now, but I will fill y'all in after it's all over. However, any of you who have been praying for us during this eight month span of unemployment would be so appreciated if you remember us especially tomorrow. I will say that I emailed some close friends tonight with some of the details and found myself articulating something I hadn't completely realized yet, that I have really kind of lost hope of our current situation being temporary. Eight months just doesn't seem "temporary," especially when you have no idea how much longer. I've as good as forgotten about most of our things, packed away in storage for six months now, and have quit expecting or even hoping to hear of any promising opportunities any time soon. I know, it's the world's smallest violin, and it's playing for me! I really don't mean to sound whiney or despondent, though I know that is exactly how I sound. I just had a moment of clarity and wanted to share. It's like, I had no idea I had taken this this hard. And so many people are so eager for me to not take it hard. So I think it was somewhat imperative, for a people pleaser like me, to stamp a happy face on the situation, or at least just get comfortable with it. On the other hand, there gets to be a point where you don't have any emotion left for a situation, where you really do realize that crying or complaining will get you nowhere and you just need to do what you have to do to keep going.
I hate to compare this "season" to losing a loved one, because it's not nearly so severe, but my counselor has reminded me that I have lost my home and my life as I knew it and planned it to be, so it is a legitimate and somewhat significant loss. And what comes to mind is Sam in Sleepless in Seattle answering the radio host about what he's going to do in spite of his devastation over his wife's death, "Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out all day long..." Okay, so I definitely have a flare for the dramatic. But that's what I've done. I'm not sure if y'all remember me sharing about my good friend whose husband died right before Christmas last year. I have talked to her about what she's going through and it is not at all unlike what Sam said. Sometimes what I say to her about how I feel about our situation gives her the words to describe her own, much more painful situation. She jokes about people telling her she's handling it so well, just to keep keeping on, but she wonders what the alternative is. She remarked (with the usual goodnatured laughter in her voice) that she could "just curl up in the fetal position on the floor in the corner," but that she certainly couldn't stay that way forever, nor would it do any good. And we both recognized that that mentality helps us get through the day to day, but that every now and then we look up and have kind of a realization of where we are and what we have or haven't dealt with. Well, please forgive the vulgar comparison of a healthy, loving family of five with supportive church family and friends who just happen to be having a rough go of it lately to someone who has lost their beloved. I know it's not the same. I think I am doing it more for myself anyway, just to give myself license to recognize the sadness of our situation and to be sad about it- even if it won't do any good. But that certainly was not what I set out to do. I really just meant to say we had a tiny possibility on the horizon. And hey, I've run (sort of) six miles this year!