Found out yesterday I am taking a 25% cut in pay, effective immediately. So much for three months. Spent all of last night confronting denial. I had been holding on to the hope of some kind of rescue from the inevitable, waiting for my fairy godmother or handsome prince or some other mythical being to sweep in at the eleventh hour and set things right.
It’s 12:01. Time to acknowledge that the only check I’m getting right now is a reality check.
My friend Arthur tells the story of facing a critical funding deadline for a project and praying desperately for the money to come in. When the usual pleas proved ineffective, Arthur tried a new tactic. He asked God to show him where he was in Scripture. As it turns out, he was behaving like the older brother of the prodigal son–you know, the bitter one. The one who was jealous of his formerly philandering younger sibling’s welcome home party. The one who whined about how his father never served him a decent steak. The thing is, the older son could have had fatted calf any or every day of the week. He owned the ranch. But he chose to obsess over his lack, disregarding the resources of his father’s estate at his disposal. He could not see the inherent potential in the raw materials available to him.
So here I am. Whining because the solution to my crisis is not appearing before me wrapped in pretty paper with a sparkly bow on top when the truth is I have been flat out lazy about developing the resources my Father has provided me. In fact, I’ve never even taken any kind of meaningful inventory of the raw materials He has placed within and around me. I’ve had my eye on a finished product when I have no idea whether the parts I’m working with even lend themselves to my idealized (fantasized) outcome.