it's the little things that count

Sometimes we set goals and work hard to achieve them, and in the end, we still can't quite make it. I heard a saying once, "Goals are those things only you can accomplish for yourself, Dreams are what only God can accomplish for you." It's amazing to me how many of my life-goals have turned out to actually be dreams and I just didn't know it.

[Before going any further, I have to say this: I use this space like a journal to write down my private thoughts. It releases pent-up tension, helps me think out loud, and provides a means of sorting through my always-complex-and-often-conflicting feelings. (Let's just say my emotional range is slightly larger than a teaspoon.) I post it because I figured out a long time ago that sometimes others need a sort of permission to admit they are are struggling, or less than perfect, or confused and doubtful. I'm happy to share my neurosis if it helps someone else feel better. All that was a precursor to the fact that I'm about to commit a major social faux pas and talk about our finances. People will talk about their sex lives, politics and religion but no one - NO ONE - talks about their checking account.]



While pastoring Grace Place, things got the point where it became difficult for me to navigate and manage the emotional fall-out that comes with some interpreting jobs, alongside the deeply-felt emotions of helping our church family members bear up under their own crisis, trials or sorrows. I loved both interpreting and pastoring, but it was emotional-overload for me to be in so many heavy situations all the time. Something had to go. And I chose interpreting.

Chumley not only agreed, it was his idea: After years of me being the bi-vocational, secular-income earner, he would take a turn for a while at working a second job and let me just work for the church. I dropped my interpreter's certification and "retired." (This was a risky move on our part because we always put his education and career first, recognizing that his wage-earning potential was greater than mine, since we chose to have me stay home with the kids at various times over the years. I never really had the chance to build a career. I just sort of "fell" into interpreting and it was great income. Giving it up was like giving up a security blanket.)


David worked at the Apple Store for a short stint, then worked for eighteen months at Life Pacific College. When that job ended, we thought we would just down-size and simplify our lives. If that didn't work, I could always go back to interpreting. It was still our standby. But, things didn't quite work out that way.

Instead of downsizing and staying in Fresno, we ended up downsizing and moving here. We both had a lot of outside-income-potential in Fresno. (Here, Chum doesn’t have the time to pick up outside work, so it falls to me again.) In Fresno, even without certification, I was a known quantity and could still freelance. ("Retirement" is a loose term in the interpreting world. Very few interpreters manage to get out and stay out.)

Since moving here, the option of just getting back into interpreting is not really available. No one knows me, I don't know anyone. I don’t have clientele or contacts. Oh, I could get back into it, but it would take a lot of time, effort and expense to go through the whole process of re-certifying, just to find myself in the same boat again -- slowly sinking. Because this is still true: I can interpret, or I can pastor, but I can’t do both. (I would make a horrible Buddhist. Detachment is so hard for me.)


When we got here, I was not offered a paid staff position and so took a year off to rest. When the year was up, I hit the ground, running. A few months ago, I read this in Forbes: "A man is hired for his potential, while a woman is hired for her proven performance." Rather than getting frustrated by the unfairness of it, I decided to work myself into a job. I was going to pretend I worked at the church until they started giving me a paycheck!

Which happened. I was recently hired at church, part-time. You know, if I went back to interpreting, my hourly wage would be at least five times higher. But the thing is, I know that I know I am called to full-time ministry, and sometimes you just have to put your money where your mouth is. I told my best friend the other day, "People have the lives they want. They go after what they want. This is the life we have chosen. We haven't gone after money because it's just not that important to us." Still, you do need money to live.

This idea that we have the life we want doesn’t prevent me from feeling reams and reams of guilt over the fact that I walked away from a stable and sufficient income source just so I could have my heart’s desire. We are treading water, and as we struggle to keep our heads above the surface, I wonder if I'm just being stubborn and stiff necked and unwilling to do something other than a ministry position, or if I’m being faithful to do that which God told me to do? (Going back to serving tables has also crossed my mind a time or twenty.) I feel like I’m trying to hold onto an elusive dream, a dream that I seem to just touch briefly before it scampers off again.



We are living on 75% of what we made in Fresno but the cost of living here is Oh So Much Higher. (There is something so humbling about living on a salary that comes from other’s tithe. I can’t even express to you how much my heart appreciates that good people dig into their pockets and give so that my children can be clothed and fed.) It feels like we’re just killin’ ourselves to stay afloat. Forget saving, we’ve been slowly eating up our savings. We are so stressed, all the time. (I know I've been horrible to live with this "Christmas" which has sent my stress-level over the top. I'm sorry, family.) We’ve looked at moving out of Danville to a nearby city but it’s about the same, everywhere, unless we want to move to Oakland (which, quite frankly, looks pretty good to me but, for some reason, Chum says, No).


Yesterday, I prepared a resume and began actively looking for a job. I started thinking maybe there’s a ministry-related job nearby just waiting for me. Non-profit? Daycare for a deaf child? What is it??? I don't know. But my resume looks pretty darn shiny, if you ask me. There has to be a perfect, second, part-time job out there somewhere. I just have to find it. Or maybe there's a punch-the-clock-and-get-'er-done job. Who knows. Something will be "right."

Remember at the start of this blog (I know, that was a long time ago) when I talked about Goals and Dreams? God reminded me this week that He's still on the throne and He sees those things in my heart which are valuable to me. He also knows I'm pretty confused right now about what direction I'm supposed to be going in, and offered a small light for my path.

About six months ago, I knew it was time to finally apply for my minister's license. I've never held one in all these years because I think Foursquare hands them out a little too easily to people without a Bible college degree (opinionated much?) and I'm one of those people - three years of Bible college but no degree. But after twenty-five years experience, I decided maybe I should stop being quite so stubborn on this issue and, besides, my gut was saying, "Now. Now's the time." So I set for myself a goal: apply for my license.

Then two cars broke down within the span of a month and we had to put $1400 into repairs. My application was finished and sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting. Waiting. We didn't have the money to pay for the application fee. I would walk by it and plead with the LORD, “Please! You told me to do this! Please provide the money for this, please! Please!”

Two days ago, we had our staff Christmas luncheon. I wasn't expecting any kind of bonus/gift because I was just hired. But Pastor Cliff handed me an envelope. Guess how much was inside? Yup. Just enough to cover the application fee. It might be one of the nicest gifts I've ever received. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving; this one will impact me for the rest of my life.

That little envelope was enough to put hope in my heart, to give me the courage to fill out a resume and hold out for the right job. I believe there is a perfect, challenging and satisfying job out there for me, one where I am needed, one that will fill my soul instead of draining it. I know if God can handle an application fee, he can handle my future. I will do as much as I can, and He will have to take care of the rest.