have I mentioned I'm jobless?

Working has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. From packing buns at my dad's bakery when I was nine (only to be rewarded with a chocolate milk from the big, scary freezer), to a paper route and babysitting any kid in close enough proximity to make a little extra cash at twelve, and finally my first real job in retail at sixteen -- I've been making money and putting it in my envelopes for a while. Did you have those envelopes? Tithe, savings, spending money. Maybe there was a fourth, I can't remember.  You would think a kid wouldn't like the envelopes, saving money, not spending it all on candy or clothes. But I did. I liked separating the bills and dividing them up. Plus, my dad gave me a buck anytime I wanted some skittles from Gordon's, so I never spent my own money on that stuff, he had me covered.  He still does that sometimes, slips a bill in my purse when I'm visiting home or the family is visiting Chicago.  "Sorry it's not more." Well, gee, dad, that's A-OK - I promise I'm not starving.

Actually, and this just seems a little ridiculous, I've got more money in the bank than I have had in years.  People slipping me bills, and a plethora of part-time babysitting jobs are all you need to get by. I guess I had it all figured out when I was twelve.  Except for Grad school. That's going to cost some money. Sigh. School becomes one big envelope that takes over all the other envelopes, and your whole life. Hopefully with a whole lotta hard work, a whole big giant amount of gumption and resilience, I won't be signing my life away to school loans as I finally make the move towards getting my Masters.  Everything would feel a little better if a I had a job, any job would do. Although so far I haven't gotten sick of reading, writing, running, walking and holding babies and talking about all the deep stuff in life with friends and then laughing at the silly things, silly people, silly life. "Hey, kid, stop being so serious"  Someone should tell me that everyday, and then I'd remember to smile just a few extra times. Grab me, and shake me, and then let go and remind me of the things in life that seem like they don't matter but do so much.

"Life doesn't always demand that we understand, but we understand that it's beautiful." - Watashi Wa.

"Do not boast about tomorrow for you do not know what a day will bring." - Proverbs 27:1

Gosh, God, I'm not trying to boast. Just a guess, just a hint. Maybe I was lying about not being humble the other day. This could be considered a humbling experience, to say the least. Sometimes I feel weak, and sometimes I feel scared, but mostly I just feel curious. I'm a tree, a small sapling, being whittled down and detailed, some of the deepest cuts are being shaped and molded into something. Always something. And in my unfinished state, I'm still beautiful, because of what I am now, because of what I was, and because of what I'll become. We're all like that, we're all becoming. I've loved and hated that about God - revealing bits and pieces to us at a time. Carving hunks and slivers, depending on the day.  You know what I remember on the really, really good days? That sometimes it takes a hundred years before what's supposed to happen, happens (Sarah and Moses). Sometimes our whole lives can be summed up into one tremendous, monumental moment, and who knows when that moment will be (Esther, Rahab). Sometimes no one ever recognizes our greatness, and we leave this world known by only a very few (Jesus). Chip, chip, chip away, and let the beauty be revealed.