come boldly

I'm not usually a bold person, especially when it comes to my own needs...

but there I stood again, waiting outside my boss's office with yet another schedule problem. This would be the third week in a row I had come to him, and I was beginning to feel like a whiner. Before it had been a conflict with my class schedule, this time I was scheduled to work shifts in two locations at the same time. I timidly made my case and then breathed a sigh of relief, although a bit humbled after being chided on behalf of myself and the rest of the staff who hadn't informed him of our commitments before he made the schedule... And it was only an hour later that I once again came under a verbal rod of discipline with my coworker, who wasn't keeping herself busy enough. It's funny how a manager's "nice" voice can sound a lot like a parent's "this-is-the-last-warning" voice, and understandably so.

While I was busily spraying a clean table with sanitizer for the third time, I realized that my work was entirely motived by fear. I worked hard because I was afraid of getting in trouble, of not deserving a break, of asking too many questions. Maybe this was completely unreasonable, but in my own mind it was real. As silly as it sounds, I was afraid of the man.

Sadly, this is sometimes how I relate to God. How many requests do I keep from Him out of insecurity? How many answers would appear if I stopped being afraid to ask for them? God doesn't work on a points system; I don't have to earn the right to talk to Him. Yet I lie in bed at night wondering what I should do about a certain situation, or I work my nerves into a bundle over something that is out of my control. It is as if I'm afraid that if I ask the wrong way, or ask too much, the answer will disappoint. This is not the kind of relationship God wants with His children.

In the midst of frustration and anxiety, I must learn to take my unsettled spirit before Him. Why? Because I can. No matter how many problems I have, how many questions I ask, or how needlessly worried I am, He actually wants me to come to Him. He begs me to "be anxious in nothing, but in EVERYTHING by prayer and petition make [my] requests known to God, and the peace that passes all understanding will guard [my] heart and mind in Christ Jesus." He's like a favorite professor at a small, private college -- He is wise yet approachable, and when nobody else can... I know He will take care of business! Talking to Him brings peace, not disappointment. Talking to Him brings joy, not fear. He will listen, He will understand, and He will answer.

"Let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

I'm not afraid to talk to God.

perspective on a paper napkin

I am a liar.

I don’t make a habit of saying things that aren’t true. I assume things that haven’t yet become true, and I think that is just as much a lie as saying “no” when I mean “yes.” I am lying to myself.

Can I just share what happened to me at my job today?

I flip-flop between cafeteria cashier and catering staff, depending on what they need. Today I was a caterer, easily my favorite of the two. I showed up for work, just barely in time to scarf down a chicken patty and hash browns from the caf (no fish friday here!), then found out I was being sent to the President's house. "If I knew we were going there, I would have brushed my teeth after that chicken patty!" We put on a very nice homecoming reception for visiting alumni, making sure nobody had to hold an empty plate or cup, and everyone found the restroom tucked into an obscure hallway. Many cucumber finger sandwiches and mini pumpkin bundt cakes were enjoyed by all.

The reception ended, the Prez and wife left for another highbrow social function, and soon the house was empty save the three of us foodservice workers and the President's elderly mother. We set about cleaning, eating leftovers, moving furniture carefully back to its proper arrangement, taking the decorative linen covers off the trashcans... within an hour we were ready to leave, right on schedule, at 5:30. This should have left me plenty of time to be at church by 6 for Judgment House.

At 6:30 I heard the beautiful sound of a backup alarm. The catering truck had forgotten us. Put simply, I was stranded at the President's home for an hour watching the nightly news with his mother, my Chinese coworker, and our supervisor, all clad in our tredsafe shoes and chef jackets. A lovely time was had by all.

The moral of the story? "Anything can happen!" or, "Always keep your cell phone in your pocket."