THE AWKWARD MOM

because uncomfortable conversations are the ones worth having

Tag: Job

On questions God doesn’t answer

Reading Time: 5 minutes

As an author and voracious devourer of fiction, I consistently get a kick out of the comedy Stranger than Fiction (2006), with Will Farrell and Emma Thompson.

Will Farrell’s character, IRS agent Harold Crick, begins to hear a narrator’s voice over his life–a narrator who has power to determine his circumstances. And who indicates he’s going to die.

Harold seeks a literature professor’s advice (Dustin Hoffman), who suggests he start to find his author by determining whether he’s in a comedy or a tragedy. read more

Bad News. You’re Not as Necessary as You Think You Are

Reading Time: 4 minutes

necessary irreplaceable indispensable

Ever lost a job?

Years ago, after a frequent series of layoffs in my company, the axe finally fell on me. read more

Do Our Churches Prefer Certain Occupations? (Does God?)

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Last week was the week where you sign enough paperwork that you think, Maybe I just bought a house or something. But actually, you’ve just registered your kids for school. I lost track of how many boxes of pencils and packages of notebook paper I purchased. And one of my kids is starting high school, which may mean that I am old?

Either way, the principal introduced himself as I walked out with my freshman (man, just typing it makes it sound real). And here is what I liked: Our new principal, in his last district, was also an elder in his church. So was our new superintendent. These intelligent, gifted men could presumably be doing a lot of things with their giftedness. But as I chatted with the principal, I thought, I’m really glad you’re doing this particular job. It matters to me and my kids and their discipleship. People like you preserve our schools so they don’t become “unreached”. read more

Prayer in a Broken Christmas

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Yesterday was one of those days when I felt like I was walking against the wind so much of the day: straining uphill, my too-thin sweater tugged around me as I grimaced, head down. As my husband and I lifted down plates for dinner, I recounted the parts that made me want to tear my hair out. (Or maybe a small tuft of my children’s. …Joking.) In the course of things, I did remember some good points. Somehow, as I relayed them, they grew a little. I tucked my head with a smile.

He put his hands on my shoulder, leveled his hazel eyes with my blue ones. “I want you to know,” he said, “that you are incredibly blessed.” read more

A Note for the Day You’re Feeling Powerless

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I woke up the other day feeling—well. Feeling needlessly angry. (It wasn’t the first time, lately.)

I drilled down a bit in my surly little soul. Anger, I recall, is secondary; it stems from something: disappointment, fear, hurt, sadness. For me, there were slices of sadness—but also a big hunk of fear. More specifically, I felt powerless.

As I was scrawling thoughts for this post, I felt rather sheepish for even labeling that. The reasons I feel powerless are nothing like some of you reading this, huddling (or scramming) when an abusive spouse comes home. Or perhaps you’ve got a boss who makes you feel about an inch high, or even threatened—but you’ve gotta pay the rent. Or maybe you’re a person of color, feeling terrified and estranged after the last election. Or you have a dark diagnosis and a couple of small kids.

Not the way I saw it going in my head: On second-guessing decisions

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I think perhaps a reader phrased it best a few weeks ago:

[My husband] and I have wrestled with our “calling” to adopt years ago. We clearly felt it, and we have second guessed it almost every day since then, wondering what were we thinking? Did God really call us to this or were we just emotionally carried away, or as [this post] put it, is it an act of worship? I think in my naïveté, I assume that if I obey what I think God is clearly placing on my heart, he will “reward” me somehow with happiness and not trouble. My very wise husband points out that this is very bad theology!

God’s Leash

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Last Sunday afternoon, while on his bicycle, my eleven-year-old was hit by a motorcycle.

IGDZ3EZD7V

While he was applying his brakes, sliding on rust-colored mud into the intersection, I was at home, deciding I would take a Sunday nap. I’d barely closed my eyes when one of my children called my name. This happens quite frequently, as one might imagine, and my husband has lightly chided me on contributing to our children’s entitlement with my jumpiness to their needs. So I waited to see if they’d come get me. I don’t remember what finally tipped me off that this was not the typical, “She won’t share the biiiike!” read more

© 2024 THE AWKWARD MOM

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑

Show Buttons
Hide Buttons