Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Here's to making it

 I thought about submitting this for a scholarship but I don't know. I should leave the scholarship for someone in great need. 

One night, my seven-year-old was tucking me into bed at 7PM and as she pressed the blankets around my sagging shoulders she said “Mom, are you just so happy that you are going to have your dream job someday? Some people never make it.” And at 1:30 the next morning my alarm went off. It was no different than any other day for the last two years. It was time for me to get up for work. When I cooked up this scheme, I didn’t really think I was going to hack it. Most housewives with four children and no high school diploma don’t wake up one day and decide to do manual labor and work their way through college after nestling in warm laundry for fifteen years. But I did. I work at UPS loading trucks. Every day, I wonder how I’ve made it this far and hope – someday - I’ll tag the finish line.

My education journey is a minute-by-minute, mind-numbing, teeth-gnashing affair. There’s been some days. I remember one day during the UPS Christmas rush last year that I arrived at a class still in my Carhartts an hour late, filthy dirty and smelling like hard work. Lots of hard work. No words were exchanged and I did not attempt to keep up with my Revit instructors rapid fire instructions. I simply “attended.” By hook or crook, I passed that class with an “A.” I didn’t think it was possible but that’s my new normal. Just this past week as I surveyed my mountain of projects for the four classes I’m taking, I thought “impossible” and then I laid in my bed, verged on self-pity tears then had a pep talk and got up and made a day-by-day plan ending on December 11th. It’s possible but only because I live with the five most amazing people in the world who buy groceries, do laundry, and fill all of the gaps I’ve created.

Although I love school and all the ways it has transformed me, I feel an equal love for how UPS has changed me. UPS reconnected me with diversity and a full appreciation for the human struggle. Among other things, I am the pre-load mentor. This unglamorous job is to simply meet with new employees 15 times within their first three months of employment and teach them safety practices and introduce them to UPS. Every single time, I meet amazing people. I’ve trained a high school football coach, a chiropractor, a foreign missionary, a retired Navy officer and a whole host of other interesting people. One day a manager asked me who could put a message on a white board so I directed him to Tim who was trained in calligraphy and was a hand drafter for many years. By the same token, there’s an equal number of young, lost, aimless souls who need me.  And this is the perfectly placed intersect of UPS and school. During my first meeting with each group, I tell them all about the UPS Education assistance program. I tell them everything they need to know and have given many the boost they needed to investigate education. I often see a lackluster disinterest until I say I’m doing it. I think maybe things seem impossible for so many people until they walk next to someone who says “yes you can, look at me.”

My education journey teaches my kids to have a little grit every day. I hope it pushes my co-workers who I want to inspire to chase their dreams. Maybe it even encourages my friends who always cheer me on and give me props. But mostly, my education process is effecting a lasting change in me. It’s my dangling carrot, my feather in my cap, my marching tune and my stiff drink.  

When I read the requirements for applying for this scholarship, I thought… “hm, I don’t have time to use my education for anything significant and lasting yet. I’m just surviving!” Then I realized surviving is what lasts.

 

 


Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Created anew

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭NLT‬‬
https://www.bible.com/116/eph.2.10.nlt
Three hours alone will make you wonder things... like whether your whole life will be a relationship life lesson or if you can get it over with in 40 years and spend the rest spreading joy. This week has been a shattering experience for me personally. Sounds dramatic but it’s just the simple truth. After ten years of trying to be a family with my siblings and trying to be a better human and trying to set healthy boundaries which make me a better human I was again reduced to being labeled with every sin I’ve ever committed with some humdinger bonus sins I have never considered logical or tempting. I am a very polarizing person so... I always tell myself things like I deserve it in the long run or I’m not very many peoples cup of tea, or sundry other things. But that’s not what God wanted to tell me. He wanted to tell me I’m made new and I’m a masterpiece... and I was made to do good things. And seriously I’m trying so hard to do good things. I’m literally confronting myself on an hourly basis here. But the past sins are a bit like a cacaphony of echoes that I can’t hear Him over sometimes.
I always wonder if I’m doing the good things, the particular ones I was made for. What masterpiece am I and where do I belong? Which good thing is He leaning His elbow on in a most suggestive way? As I stand in a sea of knee deep failures looking for the good thing, I’ve concluded what I knew all along. It’s my dear ones. And sometimes there’s a price. Sometimes you need to let go of toxic relationships so you can do the job right. Sometimes you need to care less about work or school so the dear ones can succeed. Sometimes you even need to sacrifice serving at church so you can make Sunday morning a peaceful ritual in a life of rat racing. It seems doing the good things that God made me for long long ago... can get get lost in the shuffle of doing the other things. And honestly, I’m far from an example to anyone but I’m celebrating whatever good I can think of when I look at my day because it’s something. Today I chose to speak respectfully to my son. I chose to hold my frustration with my child/navigator to a half rant. I took a special lunch to the one who had no parent on her field trip. I drove my little debaters to Congress and sat in the car for three hours hoping they loved every second. In the middle of many sad things in this season of life, I cannot forget the good things I was made to do which was planned long ago. Nor can I get away from the word masterpiece. To think that with all of my mistakes and imperfections, I’m created anew to be the masterpiece mother for my children and wife for my man.