What door is God going to open? I have a real fight on my hands. It is tough. I trust in you, Lord. You are my employer. You are my joy. I cry out to you for a miracle. I am on my knees pleading. You said I just have to pitch up here. I wait on you. This is your dream; not mine. All I need is one crack to open.
NARRATOR: For two and a half weeks I stayed at my brother's house, desperate to find a job. The number of emails I sent, the personal contact list I exercised, the online applications I filed, the phone calls I made were terrific in number and intensity. I pounded the pavement, dropping off CVs at as many law firms as possible. I was single-minded and obsessed.
My memory is taking bus-rides home late at night after a hard day's fight. The stop-start journeys were themselves a metaphor of the vicissitudes of the Christian walk. I would miss Jess terribly. And my two girls. A dull ache would throb at the bottom of my heart. Would I return empty-handed? I fought for my hope and my joy in that time. I disciplined myself into experiencing joy and finding God even though the odds were seemingly so heavily stacked against me.
It is being in the uncertain place that one gets the best view of one's self. They say that when they build bridges they need to pre-stress the concrete to make it able to take a great load. Not knowing how things will turn out can plunge you into great depths. Generally, I have found that God only develops character at the bottom of the ocean where it is cold and dark and the mass of water above seems to concentrate itself only on your shoulders. But even on the ocean's floor the joy of the Lord can become a tangible strength.
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