How do they do it? No, seriously, I wish someone would tell me. I don’t get it. How do people make it through the day without Jesus? I’m hyper aware of Him today. I’ve read about parents in airplanes that were going down, how they get out of their seats to drape their bodies over their children to protect them. That’s how I see Jesus, draping His body over mine to protect me. How do people walk around without that?
I had a meeting this morning with the president of our hospital. It was a little Q & A about the state of affairs of the organization, finance, plans, etc. The unavoidable theme of much of the discussion was that the economy is bad, worse in our area than most, things aren’t going to get better soon. He kept specifically saying one sentence over and over, “It won’t get any better at 10:30 this morning.”
At 10:30 this morning, Ford Motor Company is announcing its restructuring plan, a.k.a. telling the world who is going to lose their jobs. It’s all over the news, the drop in sales, the loss in stocks, the bleakness of the economy. It’s Black Monday, or so I’m told. My husband works for Ford Motor Company.
He went to work this morning with a worried look on his face. He has mentioned it a few times over the last few days. His plant is shutting down production to watch the announcement. He asked the guys in the band at church to stop and pray at 10:30. He told me he knows they will. He was very quiet this morning.
I feel quiet on the inside too. I’m home from my meeting. I’m watching the clock. I told him not to worry, nurses can find work in a number of positions for a variety of salaries. I’m not making my max, to say the least. We’ll be fine. He said he knows. He said he and the guys at work don’t seriously fear losing their jobs. He says a worst case scenario would be him being bumped to afternoons if workers from closing plants start seeking jobs elsewhere.
On the news this morning even the lady at Dunkin’ Donuts near a potential closing plant was fearful. Everybody is worried, scared, hopeless. It is a quiet, waiting, watching kind of Monday morning.
How do people face this kind of day without Jesus? I’m not a Pollyanna. I know things can change in a heartbeat, can get harder in one 10:30 a.m. press conference. I don’t think God will preserve the Christians and let the unbelievers take all the hits. I will say it. My husband could lose his job.
I only go so low though, before I feel the Body of Christ draped over me. He’s laying over my life this morning in a way that almost feels tangible. I can almost feel His big warm hands laying over mine as I type on this keyboard. I can feel peace pushing despair from my heart. I feel concerned, I feel prayerful and needy. I am not hopeless or afraid.
He goes before me, before the Mr. and daboyz. He knows all about economies and stocks and low sales on Expeditions and Explorers. He knows about Medicare and Medicaid and cuts to health care. He knows we need to get Jay’s senior pictures paid for, that the car is broken down and we have to decide to repair or replace. He knows that Mac wants to go overseas on a mission trip this summer and that we have to pay for a graduation party in five months. He knows that our church bought land and will be building and the money has to come from somewhere. He knows that all of the above and more gallops through my mind at unforeseen times.
He knows that I always say, “if money can fix it, it ain’t broke”; and now I’m wondering if I’m about to get a lesson about being so lippy.
He knows that when the Mr. is burdened, my heart aches.
He knows that I have to send two boys to college at the same time, and the first one starts in eight months and doggone if we never did start that college fund.
I’m not carrying any more on my shoulders than anybody else. So how do people carry it without Jesus? Seriously, I want to know.
I’ll tell you my secret first. I don’t carry it. I look at it, walk around it, try to heft it, realize I’m way too weak and this plane is going down awful fast. Sometimes I cry, I rant on bad days, I doubt for a while, I tense my jaw and give myself a tension headache. I pray, pray, pray, pray. But I don’t try to save myself from the impact. Can’t. Somebody has to drape their body over mine.
Today at 10:30 Ford Motor Company is announcing its restructuring plan. This morning at 7:30 my boss told me that the economy is bad and health care is taking a hit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I just noticed some movement. Jesus got out of His seat and He’s draping His body over mine to take the hit for me.
How do people do it, without Jesus?
Written Monday, 1/23/2006 @ 10:00 a.m.