You’re Here

“You were at the altar: preacher’s hand upon my head. You were in the water when I came up clean instead. You’re still in my story when my tears fall on the dirt. You’re there in the morning wrapping grace around what hurts.”

I believe it is in our DNA.

We want to feel as if we are worth something to other people. We push ourselves to be better, and we hope someone notices our trouble along the way. And when we hear we are not good enough, our world crumbles.

On Monday, December 11, my world crumbled. I guess that is not a fair assessment of the situation; it was far less of a crumble, and more so that of a fiery crash.

I was laid off from a job I truly loved at a place which I truly considered to be my home.

Terminated without cause was the verbiage used on the letter I was given. There it was literally in black and white, a future I once thought was bright, snuffed out with a single piece of paper.

I was stunned… shocked… blindsided…

So many thoughts ran through my head. I needed answers, but none were given. I wanted to be angry, but the disbelief in my mind clouded any rage that might come to the surface. I wanted to cry, but no tears formed.

I was told that the University needed to do some restructuring, and that it was irresponsible to pay me to do my job while they figured out what the restructuring would look like.

So, after nearly two years, that was it.

With Amanda’s help, I cleaned out my office and turned my keys in before noon. Both of our cars loaded with memories, with souvenirs of better times, we drove away. As I pulled out of the Wyly Tower parking lot for the last time, I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel anything. But when I reached down, there was nothing: just a void, an emptiness.

For the next several days, I was reeling.

I felt lost.

I had invested so much of my life into my job.

It was my identity.

It was who I was.

It was part of me.

And then it was completely ripped away from me without any warning.

I was broken.

At the most literal sense, I was broken.

And I had no idea how to go about picking up the pieces.

The timing of my termination did not help matters…

I was let go exactly two weeks before Christmas Day.

I struggled to find a balance of dealing with my emotions, all while being the husband and dad my family deserved and needed.

I wish I could I could say I pulled it off flawlessly, but I did not.

I was cranky. I was irritable. I was angry.

I wanted to believe everything would be OK. I knew that it would. I tried to stand on those promises, but doubt and feelings of worthlessness continued to knock on my heart’s door. I prayed, “Lord, I believe. Please help me with my disbelief.” I knew that God is sovereign, but I just needed to hear from Him. I just needed to hear that I wasn’t worthless. I needed to know that I was treasured. I needed to see my value.

On Christmas Eve, we opened our family presents, and the joy in my little boy’s eyes were a welcome distraction the war raging inside my head and heart. We attended our regular church service that morning, and I just so desperately wanted to hear from God. I just needed to know that He was there.

Through a Christmas song, God spoke to me…

“Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new glorious morn”

I have listened to “O Holy Night” a countless number of times, but for the first time in my life I heard those three lines like I had never heard them before.

His appearance…

His life…

His death…

That is where my worth comes from.

I am His, and no one can take that away from me. My identification is not found in a job title. It is found in the blood of Jesus Christ.

My weary soul has a hope, and each day is a new day to glorify Him no matter my situation in life.

I can face tomorrow because He lives.

I honestly do not know what the future holds for me and my family. I have sent my résumé and application in to several different job opportunities, and I completely trust that God has the perfect place for me somewhere: a place where I will be valued, a place where my strengths will be utilized, a place where family is a tangible ideal.

I will miss my job in communications. I loved telling the story of my Alma Mater to the world, and I treasure the memories I made while sharing that story. My greatest hope is that I had an impact on at least one student. At the end of the day, that is all that matters; that is how true success will be defined.

Emerson said it best, “What is success? To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate the beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch Or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!”