I was also at a place in life where things were changing internally. My parents had divorced only a couple of years earlier, which prompted me to begin asking some questions.
Big questions.
I had grown up in church. I would like to say I was full of faith, but in retrospect, I was full of religion and somewhat unfamiliar with faith. The big questions I began to ask and the answers I found prompted me to distance myself from the religion which had become so familiar. I was unable to separate my faith from my religion at that point, so I packed God in a box and left him to collect dust in the attic of my soul with all the other stuff I didn't need anymore.
I was working at my first coop job as a criminal justice major. I was a security guard at a local hospital. It is not my favorite of my work experiences. It's not now, and it wasn't then! Life was expensive, even at my low standard of living as a student. At my regular rate of pay, I was not going to be able to make my housing payment for the quarter and I needed a plan.
Maybe this is the right moment to say how significant desperation has been in my life. It has really worked to my advantage in many ways. My moments of desperation have been some of the most difficult, most transformative, and oddly, some of the most encouraging moments of my life.
Desperation led to an awakening I didn't realize I was longing to experience.
This was one of those very difficult, transformative, and encouraging moments--maybe I should say seasons instead of moments.
It didn't happen all at once.
In any case, I prayed an emergency prayer, in case there really was a God and he could hear me from the attic . . . in case he really had a plan. After all, if there really was a God with a plan, being his plan it was likely a good one. I prayed one of the most significant prayers of my life, though I had no idea how significant it would turn out to be.
I don't remember my exact words, but it went something like this,
"God, if you are there and if you have a plan, I want to know what it is, and I'll go along with it."
This would turn out to be one of the most significant things I have ever done.
In my head, I was using a little bit of reverse psychology, because I was convinced God's plan would involve me going back up north to the country where I wanted to be. I was sure God would not want me to stay in the city being so expensive and such, but as silly as it sounds, I didn't want to bias his opinion, so I just kept that little secret to myself.
I knew diligence was virtuous, so I worked hard. I had myself convinced that when I worked hard and still could not pay for my rent, this would be the sign I was seeking that it was time to go home. I knew just how this was going to go. So, I worked. I took all the extra hours I could at this security job. I worked weekends, the midnight shift, and a double shift on the fourth of July earning the extra hourly rate for taking these less than desirable shifts. I increased my earnings a lot and didn't have any time to spend any of it. I would sometimes get up before it was light and work through the day and return in the dark just before the train stopped running.
Somewhere toward the end of July it was time for me to pay my bill. I wasn't going to have enough. I had been putting money toward the housing bill all summer and I took my paycheck following the fourth of July holiday. I had even called the office and asked them to extend the deadline until payday, which they did. But even with the extra paycheck I was going to be short. When I got my paycheck, I was discouraged to find it was less than I had thought it should be. I had not received the extra holiday pay for the fourth of July because it was on a Saturday and the hospital observed the holiday on Friday--a day I had not worked. I was devastated. I mean, I KNEW it was going to go this way, but I was still disappointed. In total, I was nearly $500 short.
My planning and diligence had failed.
However, when I went to my PO Box to pick up the mail, I had a surprise waiting for me. I had a letter from an attorney in my hometown. He was the trustee of a scholarship I had received the year before. He told me no one had applied for the scholarship that year. The scholarship was supposed to be for first-year students, but he hated to think no one would use it. He sent it to me. The check was $500.
When I went to the housing office to pay my bill, I had enough to cover my bill with $9.27 left over. With my school meal plan and my rent being paid, I didn't have much extra but, I had everything I needed. This was the first time I began to separate my faith from my religion. It was the first time I dared to believe
God had a plan, and it was a good one.
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