Safe Landings (part 1)

The timing felt horrible. A few weeks after I was laid off, I was supposed to fly to the other side of the planet to visit a friend. Because isn’t that what people do when they lose a job—go on a two-week vacation?

Actually, we’d been planning the trip for months and the tickets had already been purchased, so it only made sense to go.

And, of course, the timing turned out to be perfect. What a great way to be forced outside of my own head and be prevented from the ultimate pity party.

While I was there, I was asked to share a brief testimony with a group of young people. I couldn’t help but talk about the new developments in my life, especially when I discovered that unemployment was a relatable topic for many gathered.

Here’s a segment of what I shared:


When I walked away from the office for the last time that Friday afternoon, I left behind a community, a sense of purpose, and in some ways, part of my identity.

My friend Kathryn runs a retail store, and I went there the day I was laid off to talk and to cry. I just didn’t want to be alone. She gave me tea and tissues and let me kind of hide out in the back room of her store.

While I was there, I received a text message from a friend and former coworker, asking me to call her as soon as possible about a job opening where she worked. I figured she must have heard about my job loss, but I didn’t know how… nor how news had spread so quickly. So I called her.

She told me some shifting roles and responsibilities at her workplace were opening up a job that might be a great fit for me. In fact, she had been in a meeting discussing who might fill that job when another one of our former coworkers texted her to tell her that I would be available and looking for a job. Not only that, but my friend had an appointment that very evening in the building right next to my apartment—so I could hand her my resume and she could give it to her boss the next morning.

I was stunned. And moved. Because surely only God could have orchestrated this amazing timing. Before the sun even set on the day I lost my job, God had provided a strong job possibility using my skills and experience, and right in my neighborhood as well. And I was able to express my interest in the job quite quickly, getting a head start on any other people who might apply.

I was still sad about my old job … but I was also hopeful.

In my experience as a Christian of many years, I’ve realized that’s what’s different about those of us who believe in God and his son, Jesus. Bad things still happen to us. We may lose a job, like I did. Or lose a loved one or wrestle with addiction. But we have hope.

I don’t know how this story is going to end. I don’t know if I will get the job my friend called me about, or if I will be unemployed for many months—like many of my friends have been during this difficult time for our country.

But what I do know is that the God who planted me in that job and who organized all those details on the day I lost that job will be present with me. He will provide for me. And he will continue to be my hope.