For a long time, work was my ONLY identity. If I had a good day at work everything was okay. If things weren’t going well, I was a wreck. I put in ridiculously long hours, took things way too seriously, and if I ever did take vacation, it was never more than a week and I never disconnected. I knew on some level this was dysfunctional, but I also knew I was kicking butt at my job and that felt good.
Three years ago today I was laid off.
So, this is a little awkward, but I need to tell you something you might not want to hear. Kind of like that friend in high school who really, really, wants to impress the guy with the leather jacket who smokes so she starts smoking and wearing skintight leather pants to fit in, and you can’t help but feel scared for her because even though it seems like she has won, and will be popular and loved from now on, you know deep down she’s living a lie and will probably end up a pregnant high school drop out with lung cancer. So church, when I see you turning into Sandy from Grease, I can’t help but want to say something, because I didn’t speak up to Sandy and have always regretted that.
I have been living in a pretty awesome bubble for the last three months. It started with an in depth examination of what I’ve jokingly called my life motto “I believe, help my unbelief.” In case you don’t know, that is found in the Bible (Mark 9:24) and basically this guy wants Jesus to heal his …