I am so incredibly bored in my job.
This is not a word I like to use. I don't like it when my kids use it either.
For the past four months or so, remodeling has become a tolerable feat, a mere paycheck, and nothing more. I have lost all passion for it.
I am convinced that this job is from the creator. And in it I have the crash-course ability to spiritually scan the area. Much like the dream I had last December, I am definitely getting a major overview of the area through this job.
But most days I would rather stick my crotch in a waffle iron for a few hours than do what I am doing.
House flipping seems far fetched here, at least for now. The Canadian government seems hell bent on helping the economy by creating ways to raise the housing prices, making regular people unable to afford a house.
I feel the huge tug towards music again. Several months ago I joined a prophetic worship band in Capital City. I've always been good at this seldom heard of art. I pray that something could come of it.
Anything to get out of the remodel world.
The other day I finally heard the gentle voice (whisper) of the creator. Wow. It's been a while.
I've been real tired of my job. My boss is mildly tolerable at best. He usually throws at least one childish tantrum a day. And sometimes they are due to me. I carry on. Quietly. Even though I have mentally checked out of this gig and operating on auto-pilot.
I await for another gig. Or my life's calling. Music. Prophetic ranting. Whatever. It'll happen. I'm sure.
One of the primary reasons I don't enjoy working for this guy 100% is that I feel like some dumb little kid. He never tells me anything.
I never know what's coming ahead.
For example: If I knew what job we were going to do that day, I'd know what tools to load up. Instead. I have to sit and wait for orders. Load this. Pick up that.
If I could see the big picture, I could save us all kinds of time and create an orderly operation.
This is in part because my boss is a horrible leader and communicator. He's use to being a solo operation. So it goes.
I also suspect that by keeping me in the dark, it gives him a feeling of power. Hey, if you need power by creating inefficiency and keeping me down, knock yourself out.
I think he may also be slightly threatened by me. I play music, have a loving family, and spend time with them. He works. Non-stop. Even in the evenings and weekends. He has no life.
So the other day, I ask the creator why I feel like I have blinders on all the time with this job.
I heard him say, "this is what you must do to follow me right now. You're not going to see the big picture yet. You must look forward and trust me".
Well. damn.
I'll do it lord. I'll do it.
We've been at our new assignment for little over a year now. And we've been in our house and neighborhood for almost a year.
I know full and well that our time in the fair mother city (previous assignment) had ended. And that was reinforced last November when I made an unexpected trip back to Texas to sell my truck.
But I was reading this news report yesterday on how currently the fair mother city ranks SEVENTH in the US for the worst housing markets. Assuming any of that info is accurate, it is difficult to sell property based on the projected population growth in the next five years AND the devaluation in property recently.
I was in a world of house flipping back then. My last project sold in March 2010 after receiving an offer within a month of listing. Plus I sold my own home without listing it and with no hassles.
I would have to say the creator was protecting me in getting me out of there before the market changed.
Unfortunately, two friends on our old street are having a difficult time selling their houses now. One of them is Obi-Wan's old house, having been remodeled by my old jedi-master.
Help them lord, as you've helped me.
Things in River Dog seem to be going real well. We recently passed the one year anniversary of our border crossing. That was a milestone of some sort and I finally feel somewhat settled in this new arena. Somewhat.
My wife has made a few inroads with "real people" or people outside the middle class, system-living norm. I'll need to report on some of our relationships with our new friends at a later entry.
One of the things that kept us from jumping up and down about being in Canada was the close proximity to my wife's family. Yes, we live in the same town as two of her cousins and their families. But I primarily mean her parents in The Big City about three hours away. And by that I primarily mean her mom.
My mother-in-law has always acted threatened that we don't live by the system of this world. We don't have real careers, we don't have pension programs set up, we don't have health care programs set up (other than what Canada already doles out).
I guess right now my wife is a little discouraged by a phone conversation with her mother today. Funny how her mother never brings this stuff up with me. Probably because she knows better.
I'm sure there's nothing wrong or sinful by living with those systems. But for our life, we have never felt right about them to date. And the Creator has continued to care for us. So it goes.
Thank you god.
It's hard not to feel like an android these days. I like my boss, and my job is OK. But I constantly question how I got "here".
Most kids don't dream of doing drywall mudding when they're 40. Neither did I. But it's where I am now. So, I'm trying to ride this wave until the creator says go.
So like usual, I am waiting. I think.
What the hell am I waiting for? I don't know. A move of god? To write a rock opera? - because I'm going to do that someday. I need a band though.
I am liking my new job. Bill, my boss, is a seemingly simple and quiet guy. It's just he and I. No other work crew. No politics. No nonsense. And thank god almighty, no micro-managing. He just leaves me alone to do what I'm paid to do. And if I was to ever screw something up, I can't imagine him blowing a gasket over anything. I couldn't have asked for anything better.
Well, the work has so far been pretty life draining and monotonous. Mostly drywall mudding in various basements across Saskatchewan farmland. IE: the middle of nowhere. That can make me wonder just HOW I got here in life, what's the meaning of the universe, and etc.
I just crank up the ipod and get lost in mud.
I'm sure, as always, this period is yet another piece of the puzzle of life. Another step in the journey.
******************
One of the cool things about living in Saskatchewan is the amount of people you meet from across the globe. At one of the job sights I met Hans. He was a resident farmhand from Switzerland. Wow. I don't think I've ever met anyone from that place. He said it was crowded there. Which is one of the reasons he's now in the Canadian prairie.
Turns out Hans is a believer in the creator. Believers are harder to find here than back in Texas. He had some good testimony to share and so forth. But our conversation turned toward the awkward "where do YOU go to church?", which I've always hated.
I gave my half-assed answer of trying to become part of the ReachOut community. It's the truth. But dismal looking in reality. So it goes.
**************
My son is best friends with a girl in his class who's father is a local pastor of a high church denomination. Our kids became involved with their church in a two month after school deal that was a kin to a vacation bible school gig. It ended with a program where they sang during their Wednesday night service accompanied with a meal. So we attended.
The meal was a little strange as no one came to mingle with us, the guests, etc. No offense was taken on our part. But this was shockingly different from Texas churches where everyone is on you, the visitor, like Oprah on a baked ham.
But the pastor sat with us and actually encouraged me from a truthful standpoint of mission work. He knows why we're here in River Dog as our wives have become friends and co-workers with the same cleaning company. So they've talked some. He explained how a cohort of his in another town only recently broke into the native community after twenty years of ministry there.
It takes a long time to build trust with the local poverty culture.
And I pray it doesn't take us twenty years.
Today is Sunday. On Sundays I can't help but think of my old friend, catfish fry cook, and sanity barometer Obi-Wan. He was a major character from my last assignment in Texas.
We spent the better part of seven years in Obi-Wan's house every Sunday morning.
I get real emotional thinking about him. If I was an actor and had to perform a scene where I needed to cry, all I'd have to do was think about him and the seven years we spent.
Tears. On like a faucet.
And what's stupid...
He's not dead or anything. He'll be 94 at the end of this month.
And most any moment...
I could reach into my pocket, grab my cell, punch a button, and (assuming he'd answer, which he doesn't sometimes) talk to him on his cell.
But I usually don't.
It's too painful...talking to him
Somehow he always ends up talking about old times. Memories. Coming across the street and hanging out. Everything.
So to keep up with him, I usually email a trusted confidant who took over my part as volunteer care giver for Obi-Wan. Or sometimes I email some former neighbors who visit him at the care home once a week.
I'm told he has finally gotten use to the place. Not the food though. He's critical of all food made by someone other than him.
I'm afraid that one day I'm going to regret not calling him often.
I don't know how to carry on.
Damn.
I miss him.
Well, I start working with this home remodel guy tomorrow. I hope all goes well. And I pray he's a joy to work for/with. Sometimes I wish I was back in the fair mother city working with my former jedi master. Life was always a party in one way or another back then. But times have changed.
I spent a whopping four days at the local lumber yard. And both my wife and I wonder what that was about. Was it a fluke? Was it meant to be? Was I supposed to stay there and tough it out regardless of everything I felt in my spirit about that gig?
Then I remembered the dream I had a while back about getting a spiritual overview of this region. Well, this job may have lasted four days. But I got a behind the scenes close up of a very dark corner of this society.
The founder and current owner of the local lumber yard has one of the worst reputations in River Dog. More than once people who learned I worked in construction and remodeling warned me to stay away from him. The owner is a multi-millionaire who made his vast fortune from humble roots by screwing everyone he crosses, so it seems.
Another home remodel business owner whom I met with and wanted to work for (but didn't happen - another story on how the creator was protecting me) said he was screwed out of $38,000 from the lumber yard owner. This info was volunteered without his knowing I was in the running for a job with that lumber company.
Based on mass rumor, here-say, and my own hands-on job, the lumber yard owner is partnered up with several native band chiefs in various operations to screw those far northern bands out of their government funded housing materials or something. He has vast business deals in selling lumber to dry bands while slipping in crates of booze to get the sale, etc.
I don't know all the details and don't want to know. But it was my job to load the trucks that headed up north.
I got a clear overview of certain aspects of the relations between the white man and the native.
This is a dark place. Lord, guide me.
I started the job last week. It was kind of wacky. And I couldn't stop praying for a good way or reason out of it.
Well, I may have one.
A guy called me Thursday night asking if I was looking for a job. He got my name and number from his son-in-law, who was one of the contractors I called a month ago when looking for work.
This guy does mostly home reno stuff, drywall, shingling, whatever. He operates a three man crew. He has steady work year round, been in business for twenty years, and doesn't advertise as all of his work comes from word of mouth. He pays slightly better than the lumber yard pays me, and that could change after one month. The lumber yard was going to take six months for any pay increase.
And more importantly, it's the kind of work and life that I want to do.
That lumber yard job never sat right with me. There's a lot of crazy stuff going on in the background. The owner of the operation has to be one of the biggest crooks I've ever heard of. There's way too many rumors around town about that guy.
I'm supposed to let the home reno guy know by Monday night, and I could start the following Monday. So again, prayers for wisdom are appreciated.
Then I'll have to diplomatically bow out of the lumber yard gig. Which might be tricky since the manager absolutely loves me.
It won't break my heart to say bye, though.
So, if this new home reno work is meant to be, I wonder why the creator allowed me to go into this job I hated.
Well, in a last ditch final hail mary play, I accepted the position at the local lumber yard.
This was not my expected course of action. But I couldn't come up with a solid reason from the creator to not accept this job.
My final condition upon acceptance was that I couldn't start immediately as I am in the final throws of finishing our basement renos, possibly 1-2 weeks. They were OK with the delay. So that was my confirmation of sorts to accept this job.
It's a fairly responsible job as it will be my duty to manage the whole yard and load shipments with 100% accuracy. Many lumber shipments are headed up north into extremely remote locations in the Province where a $50 box of nails would cost the local contractor $250. So there's a little pressure. But I hope to hand it to the lord and not fret after hours.
And I suppose there is a small chance something better could show up in the next week or two since I haven't signed any papers, etc
The thought of having a full time job for the first time in twelve years scares the hell out of me. It'll be a huge culture shock. But what's new...
Thank you all for praying and for your wisdom and guidance.
After leaving a resume and talking to the managers two months ago, I finally got a call from the local lumber yard. They have offered me a full-time job.
I would be the yard foreman, reporting only to the top manager but with two other people ahead of me in their chain of command.
The deal is that I am sure I don't want this job. Or if I should take it.
During my face to face job offer yesterday, I still gathered that the manager and his wife don't particularly value their other employees, based on various back biting comments they've made.
The hours are five to six days a week. And these hours are not set and rigid, leaving opportunity for abuse of my time, etc.
I have several possible remodeling jobs lined up in the coming weeks and months that would pay more than this full time job. But as usual, they are hit or miss.
The creator knows that this kind of gig is not where my heart and passion lie. But in Genesis, Joseph had a huge call on his life. And he fumbled into a long detour to get where he was going.
I suppose this job could be a detour in my life in order to get back to where I want to be: being available to people, working random remodeling and landscaping jobs, and returning to house flipping someday. Also music - which is an identity that is currently being resurrected as I jam with guys in nearby Capitol City once a week.
I told the manager that I would meet him face to face with my answer in one week (Wednesday March 23).
Pray with me if you will: Creator of the universe, is this lumber yard job offer a detour, or a distraction? In the name of Jesus...
Well, a corner of sorts was turned.
Today we received more than twice the amount of money needed to finish up our basement renovations. It came from the most unlikely source, especially considering the amount.
Finishing the basement renos was the top prayer to the creator for the past month or so. It's been hard to not feel like a failure of some sort since I am a big believer in "counting the costs" etc.
He provided for us. Thank you Lord.
One of my dear friends back home, my former Jedi master whom I learned house flipping and remodeling from, gave me a random call the other day.
He had been praying for me. For ME mind you, as his own six year old son with severe health issues lied at death's door. Thankfully, his son's health turned around for the better last I've heard.
As he prayed for me, he felt as though the creator gave him a picture of a corner. As in, I would be turning a corner soon.
I've been hanging on to this word for the last two weeks or so. It's all I've got, in addition to a whole host of miracles and testimonies that brought us here to River Dog in the first place.
I have never awaited the coming of Spring like I have this year. A Saskatchewan Winter will do that to you.
In Texas, March means everything starts turning green immediately. It's mostly weeds, but green weeds none the less.
Here, March means everything is still white. Just like it's been since November when my plane landed from my return trip to Texas.
But I'm starting to see LESS white.
Ice is melting in the street, revealing the long forgotten asphalt. Less WHITE, more ASPHALT! WOO-HOO.
Like Joshua (in the bible book of the same name), I am holding on to courage. God gave us this town. This land. This whole gig is not a fluke. Provision and purpose will arrive in due time.
A corner will be turned. I am sure of it.
I'm really trying to seek the kingdom first and let everything else take care of itself.
(Trying.)
Truthfully, I have entered this new land. I can see the grapes, but the giants are scaring the hell out of me.
(Rid me of this fear lord.)
I am determined to be victorious through this. The creator did not bring us here to die, go broke, be made fools, have no identity, feel worthless.
(So god, why do I feel broke, foolish, like a nobody, and worthless?)
Sometimes I thought I could walk on water. I guess I've always had crutches.
Dear god, thank you for trials.
After checking up on the dismal lumber yard gig last week, a local French bistro owner, Anne-Marie (where I passed a brief audition to play music in her place this spring/summer) gave me the name of a home remodeling business owner.
I called him and met with him at the River Dog Diner the following Saturday morning.
All I can say is that EVERYTHING about the meeting went positive. He is definitely someone I would want to work for. He maintains a respectable schedule (M-F 8am-4:30), pays VERY well, and seemed to like me. He had planned to contact me Monday after seeing if one of his new employees would work out. The new guy hadn't showed up for a few days or something.
So Monday night I get an email from the business owner which said his employee showed back up after being ill for three days. He was going to try him out some more but really wanted to do something with me.
It sounds very promising. But I'm so weary of waiting. I'm going to keep looking. But I want this to work out too.
I confess, I have avoided writing any reports for a while. Primarily because I tire of using this blog as a whine-fest. I could write on the handful of folks I've met and the slow intertwined adventures that may begin. But I am low these days.
The basement reno project, my daily existence and lifeline, is oh so close to being complete. But our financial outlook is dismal. The choices that I clearly see are: 1) finish the basement and be flat broke or 2) start working (assuming there is work for me somewhere) and hope for better days ahead to finish the basement.
I think way too much. And hacking away at the basement gives me too much time alone to think.
I wonder if I've failed. If I missed something entirely in this whole assignment change. If I was supposed to move at all. These are nonsense thoughts I'm sure. But they plague me anyway.
On the bright side, my wife was given a job cleaning a local bank building 5 nights a week for about an hour each night. It pays around $20/hour. Viva la Canada to that. And I am being strongly considered for a position with a local lumber yard in running the yard as well as installation crew. It would be steady work. It's been a long time since I had 40+ hour a week employment. I don't know if that is what the creator is giving me or what. I talked to the owners of the lumber yard yesterday for a good 30 minutes. I gathered that they had no conscious in over-working and under-paying their employees. That left me feeling bleak.
Maybe the creator will open another door for me soon. I pray consistently on this subject. I hear only silence. The silence is making me nervous and feeling somewhat worthless.
I want to do independent house flipping again someday. Maybe this lumber yard gig is a path in that direction, etc
I plead again for your prayer coverage on this matter: the lord knows what I want and what I am good at. He's never put me somewhere that I wasn't meant to be. Maybe he is yet again preparing me for what I want...
I am finally waking up to the subtle feeling that every person in River Dog knows of me. This may be an exaggeration, but not by much.
This is a much different assignment than the fair mother city. Even though I knew what seemed like half that city back in Texas, there was still a fair amount of anonymity. That ain't going to happen here. And I guess I accept that.
In an unrelated note, I am experiencing a wait period. The Creator is having me wait on, god knows what? an identity? a job? a reason? I don't know.
Remodeling our basement was the only thing keeping me sane. But my wife had knee surgery last week. So now I'm Mr. Mom, doing all the kid duties 24/7. So it goes. Now I'm waiting on finishing the basement. The finish line is oh so close.
But on the identity/purpose front: I accepted a voluntary position on the Reach Out board as treasurer. I've never cared too much about non-prof boards and their ilk. But I'm in love with this rag-tag group. There's no room for politics. Everyone is either an aging grandma from the local poverty culture or some other weirdo. It looks like the Star Wars cantina scene.
I think I'll fit right in.
Many thanks for your communications with the creator in my behalf. I can feel them and see the results. Fears have dissolved. Things still don't make sense. But they've never made sense to the world around me. So, all is well.
I am still hacking away at the massive basement overhaul. It is about 80-85% finished. Almost there.
Things are opening up for us this year. I have great expectations, fear or not.
Other than that...it's still winter. There's almost 4 foot high snow banks beside my driveway. Like winter, it ain't going anywhere anytime soon. So meeting the locals are usually events that happen intentionally or indoors somewhere. No neighborhood stuff.
I am so incredibly bored in my job.
