Your God Has Funny Ways

Reflect on stories of those people whose works-art, writing, composition, and the like-are now highly regarded. Some have lived to witness this appreciation and to benefit financially from the success of their popularity. And so many of them choose to give back as a favor; gracious of their followers, fans and admirers. Then we are reminded by short articles of their beginning, some of them being humble. Those are the stories I’m finding that I need to read carefully now.


As I’ve confessed somewhere deep within a long emotional vent about my depressed state over some woman. I’ve revealed my struggles as a recent college graduate vaguely in my ‘About Me’ section. Yes I’m one of those recent college graduates that performed well academically and had received honors, though she declined recognition for most of them. One of those first generation college students from a small rural town limited in opportunities and access to proper tool preparation for college. As well, one of those children whose parents never graduated high school, so up until a certain point in middle school I was on my own academically. And to top off my personality, at first young and shy turned to understanding what introversion and a-socialization means. This all means that after a year of my college graduation date I have not been successful in finding a career. I lack the privilege. I lack properly networking skills to ‘know someone rather than to use what I know’. To top off my socialization skills are poor. So I’ve confessed somewhere along the way that I want to become a writer.

But this is more so difficult as I do work and I work and work for a living to afford to live first. I am independent in my mind and mindset, so I’ve sought ever opportunity to make more money above minimum wage start-off as I could. I began as a cashier my junior year in college. As I struggled to explain why I had yet to find a job before I turned 21 years old. I’m from a small rural town where opportunities are presented to the teacher’s children then everyone else with friends or family connection. So imagine my depressed state as I tried to find my first job for 6 years before I was hired by mistake in identity actually. However, I proved myself and became manager in less than three months. I’ve learned to say ‘no’, so I moved jobs to be a manager with more pay in such a short time. I’ve collected more financially sensible bills so I needed more raises, more reasons to work and work. So I’ve found two jobs that paid what one professional job would pay me if they were reasonable to my lack of experience.

I’m washing dishes, dumping grease at my second job. My primary job I’m listening to customer complaints, from those people who are suffering somewhere in their personal life. This isn’t for me, this is temporary, this is not the career pathway for me. However, I need the restaurants; I need the money to care for my bills and now for a roof over my head. I need this experience. I need something else.

I need a roof over my head. I confess somewhere that I am homeless. I was homeless, just moved into a home yesterday with what restaurant work can afford. Before I moved in, three days exact, I lost my second job.

I was laid off without proper warning, but at least they gave some courtesy and a gift card worth $25.

In such disbelief I began applying madly to jobs still with restaurants. Hopefully to find one struggling so they’ll accept me quickly. I shot out 15 quick-apply applications in less than an hour as I worked my last hours of my second job. I went to my first job later that night to talk out my frustration with my work-place associates, since they know my situation. At some point, I managed a quiet crew as I cried my heart out throughout my shift. I mean I was working but I couldn’t stop choking tears, so I took over a crew position to block my face from customers.

My mom called me frequently to reassure me that ‘everything will be alright’. She told me, ‘God has a way of opening you up to something new, whether you believe in him or not.’ I’m respectful to her and her beliefs, I remain silent during the religious part. But in my mind I’m thinking, well your ‘God’ has a funny way of speaking. I’m forced out of a relationship and a home the beginning of this year. My car breaks down three days after that fact. I mean I managed to get a new car so I could travel to work and to find work. However, that meant I lost financial support from my father selfish and bitter. I have to pay my own bills. This meant homelessness at some point. I needed a new job or a job in addition to what I have so from February to July I applied to jobs shutting doors in my face due to lack of experience. Due to I just was hired at one job, so will she leave us so soon too? Then, your education is listed here, surely she doesn’t need us, she’ll leave soon. And so I told the one that finally hired me, to please disregard my education here. He asked why. I said no one will hire me, and I need this job. He hired me, in my excitement, but under false pretenses. I mean for this second job to tell me that they have not turned a profit since they opened in 2014, so they are closing this one and three others. When hired I was told that you were expanding.

You know it happens, but this is happening so frequently all taking place within a year. My true self is an opportunist so I will apply and talk like mad to get something, to get more money. My depressed self just nearing the edge of self-destructive thoughts. So I write instead to calm myself and to balance my thoughts. Writing is what I view myself doing some time in the future and so I write with this new free time to do.


I know I can become successful. I use the short burst of time I have to write all I’ve been thinking of since I was working those hours, so many stories and thoughts are left lingering on my mind.

Going back again I remember charts and slide shows of those now popular with humble beginnings. Some were homeless, restaurant workers, similar to myself. Some were depressed and nearing self destruction, similar to myself. I must think that I will be where I want to be, but life is as it is worded.

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