In February, I did not know where I was going or what I would do, but my faith carried me through.
Was I supposed to take one of these jobs that I was being reviewed for? Was I to accept the offer from Modesto and move there? It looked like I was going to have to find a place of my own, and that would still require a job. Steve was good with me staying at his house in Salem. While the offer was extremely kind, I did not want to overstay my welcome. However, every job lead I had was in the Sacramento Valley. Some were remote, some were hybrid. Then there were the jobs for the National Park Service and Cal Parks, which I really wanted.
Dealing with the tremendous winter storm damage in January showed Ree and I could still work together if we had to. Three trees went down, requiring chainsaws and hours of cleanup. The garage door had seized while open, allowing 55-60 mph wind to blow snow and ice into the garage, creating a snowdrift around the cars. The pressure also caused the garage interior door to fly open and cracked the frame. It could only be closed by stacking furniture against it. Snow still blew in. Due to several days without power, we couch-surfed at our daughter’s home (they were without power as well). After many challenging conversations, we decided to at least attempt being friends, whatever the future may hold.
I returned to Salem until, during prayer, it was given to me that my time there was done. The box of coffee, a French press, gifts, an envelope I never dared to open, and the acceptance letter from Cal Careers arrived. It broke me. I had achieved eligibility for what I could do but was rejected for who I am (or predetermined to be).
In March, I moved out of Steve’s place and back to Troutdale as I awaited an offer of a position. Nothing in me wanted to do this; all of my being screamed to NOT do this. Humbled by my lack of viable options, I relocated.
Because it was still freezing at night, grace was extended, and I was given a bedroom and my own half bath. The separation gave her a greater resolve to be independent of me and to do things she wanted. A significant amount of this time was used to mend my relationship with my oldest daughter, who felt that I had abandoned her. For my own spirit, I needed to stay completely immersed in Christ. I looked for work, for property, and tried to be ready for where God was leading me next. I’ve never unpacked.
April 5, 2024, 7:07 a.m.
Step forward in your faith, Jeffery.
“Remember your word to your servant, for you have given me hope. My comfort in these trials is this: your promise preserves my life.” Psalm 119: 49-50
April 11th, 2024, 7:05a
Erased. The feeling of being forgotten and abandoned is difficult to cope with when a relationship ends or a situation removes you from a familiar circle. It hurts when a promise is broken, and the outcome causes dissolution and pain so deep it feels impossible to rise above it. When all that is removed, it leaves the heart in a place without foundation or an anchor to hold fast to.
Psalm 139:1 through 24 (exclude 19 through 22)
To begin a way out of erasure, know who you are – loved by God without restraint – held close.
Psalm 138:8 seals this word.
You have a plan. It is never random but always according to Your purpose and desire. Time is irrelevant; preparation and execution are what matter. I cannot move what is already set, nor can I influence the waves of the sea. Your righteous path is enough for me.