Homeless Soul
Some time ago, I lost my job. When I went to my Superior to let him know that I would need some time off here and there to attend doctor’s appointments, he said, “Sure, whatever I can do to help.” Life was just hunky-dory.
A few days later my boss called me into his office, “Well, you are going to need to resign or I will terminate you. Sorry, but it’s the Human Resources Department.” Never once looking me in the eyes.
In a matter of seconds, I went from having a great job, to unemployed. He did not wish to help me find another job in another area of the building either.”I’m sorry there are no other jobs available.”(Knowing there were several other positions open) What he meant was there are no jobs for people like you.
I was now job poor.
“Oh by the way, I have reported you to the Board of Nursing.” Shock and disbelief, poor and deserted, betrayed and distraught, I was too stunned at that moment to say much. I don’t remember uttering more than a few words as I walked out the door before I began to sob. I bit my lip in two and prayed I could get out the door before I started to cry or my lip started to bleed, “Please God do not let me cry.” When I crossed the threshold of the door on my way out, I lost it. My cry was foreign; my chest started to heave and a rumbling came from deep within my soul. All those years of being drugged, I had numbed myself to any sentiment. It was now a tornado of emotions. Spitting out anew one every few seconds, I remember tremendous pain.
I was considered “Damaged goods.” And the weeks that followed, that was all I could think of. My goods began to produce stinky bitterness, raging anger, whirling confusion, and extreme loneliness leaving me vacant and spiritually deprived. I was a homeless soul impoverished in my deepest shame.
I eventually walked into a place of unfamiliarity requiring my total faith. However, in my case it was really lack of faith, I just didn’t have a choice. I had been mandated into the situation (that I had brought on myself by a disease bigger than me), or more like pushed off the Grand Canyon. From the Abyss I had fallen into, where I have finally began to see the Light …
A Bankrupt life is like a baby learning to live life all over again. My life– in this case– needed all the fundamentals. I needed love and acceptance. I had lost the basics of living along with the financial stability. Even Jesus fed the multitudes before He began to talk. He met the people right where they were. And Jesus was here today to feed me just as He did then, this time through His written Word.
My journey is still in progress but I can say that my poverty has brought me to utter nothingness and helplessness.
If I had known that poverty had meant this much freedom, I would have sought destitution long time ago.
Truly I believe that I am blessed bountifully in the scarcity of my brokenness.
Where I am made ready for the Groom…For Jesus
His Daughter…
Her Broken wing 
March 26, 2010 at 5:48 am
I could not agree with you more… “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they shall see God.” I didn’t have a clue what that meant. As I’ve told you, my addiction was religious performance. When I finally came to the point that I saw how it was killing me I began to lay it down. I found myself on my face, desperate for release from this deathly captivity. Religious flesh looks SO good that it’s hard to see the death woven into it. But He saw it. He knew, so He came for me.
I see He has come for you too. This freedom, this love, this grace… oh how blessed it is.
You write beautifully!
March 26, 2010 at 12:43 pm
Sorry Julie that you are having so much trouble with your comments… I think maybe it could be my fault in not knowing much about this blogging … I have approved a few that should show up… some show up and some have to be approved… I am sorry… it’s a crazy thing…
thank you so much for your beautiful words.. your journey.. and your support…You have a beautiful blog…