Jobless at Christmas {guest post}

By Stephanie Thompson | Twitter

I don’t like surprises.

Actually, let me clarify-I like surprising other people, but unexpected interruptions in the rhythms of my life make me uncomfortable.

I’m the one who likes to sit in the front seat of the rollercoaster so I can anticipate what’s coming next. Chalk it up to birth order, personality, life experiences … I like to have a sense of what lies ahead.

I’ve been learning to trust God more in this area. But, as you know, you don’t recognize progress until you encounter circumstances that test it.

Several years ago, my husband found out he was going to lose his job. Right before Christmas.

How do you prepare for that kind of news? We prayed, talked, and waited. And just as he thought, it happened.

My mind had not forgotten the prophetic nudge I had received randomly at a stoplight a year earlier. The Target sign advertising seasonal hiring had drawn my eyes and, for some reason, it resonated with me. As the light turned to green, the thought was packed into the back of my mind and I proceeded down the road and onto my day.

Until a year later, when we faced with my husband’s job loss. Questions loomed. Working at Target would entail nights at work and sleep during the day. How does one do that with a two year old? What about getting my older kids off to school? Would I have to work on Christmas?

God spoke into our lives in a way we had hoped but could not have imagined.

My husband’s company did not have a current space for him to work, so they gave him the opportunity to work from home until January, which was something he had always longed to do. I did end up working on Christmas, but the blessings in that season of waiting came packaged in ways I never anticipated.

Scriptural narratives consistently bear witness to a God of surprises. The packaging of the Messiah was no exception.

Of course, the Jews were well familiar with the prophecies including:

Isaiah 9 :6-7: For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time onward and forevermore.

Micah 5:2 But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.

The anticipation of his arrival was passed down through generations. Hope wove through the retelling of how God’s hand guided, intervened and never abandoned them. The Torah spoke of the repeated acts of redemption on behalf of the Israelites. And now, as a fractured people, the promise of permanent restoration appeared to be close to reality.

But how do you reconcile all that was hoped for in a Messiah with the reality that he arrived as an infant? Not a seemingly powerful king. Not a savvy political figure. Not even an adult.

God spoke into their lives in a way they had hoped, but could not have imagined.

Yet, truthfully, what had been pictured was not what transpired … at least not from a human perspective. Since fear and despair can quickly clutch us as we wait, how can we let hope and joy liberate us in the midst?

We remember the narratives which speak of God’s character throughout history. We, like, the Israelites, cling to the ancient truths which speak to present circumstances.

“and again Isaiah says,
“The root of Jesse shall come,
the one who rises to rule the Gentiles;
in him the Gentiles shall hope.” Romans 15:12

God speaks into our lives in ways we hope, but cannot imagine-even when our blessings look differently than expected.

About Stephanie:


Stephanie is an ordained pastor, speaker, writer and mental health advocate. She writes about sensing the voice of God and encountering the Holy Spirit in the midst of our everyday routines. In addition, the themes of parenting and mental illness find themselves woven into some of her posts. She is a member of the Redbud Writers’ Guild, and her pieces have appeared at Altarwork, Amity Coalition, Her View From Home, The Mighty, and The Mudroom blog. Stephanie lives in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband and three teens. She blogs at stephaniejthompson.com. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

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Doe, a Deer, A Female Deer {for SheLoves}

I published this earlier this month at SheLoves Magazine. Click over to read the full article!

“When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.” –Mother Superior, The Sound of Music

Currently, I am in a season with many walls, few doors, and quite a few windows to the outside world—taunting me by what I’m allegedly missing. I’ve been here before—as a teenager trapped in my parent’s home, as a college student waiting for my life to begin, as a thirty-year-old single woman (with a sex drive and ticking biological clock) surrounded by families, as a teacher going on to the next year because it was expected. And now I’m here as a mother to three littles, walled-in by naptimes, temper tantrums and mind-numbing routines.

Perhaps you’re here, too, though your walls may look different than mine. Illness, job insecurity, infertility, a sick parent or another impossible circumstance may leave you feeling trapped against your will, walled-in and alone. You have underutilized gifts, unfulfilled callings and pent-up passions.

Part of what I’m realizing is that just because strength, intelligence or giftings are harnessed for a time doesn’t mean they are weakened or disappear. In fact, Old Mother Maturity is still at work on our juvenile souls, training us by her delays and uncomfortable restrictions.

Last week I eased my minivan out of our driveway into the cul-de-sac and caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. Poised like a queen was a huge doe, beaming her gaze directly at me. But the most alarming part was that she stood trapped inside my neighbor’s fenced yard.

How did she get in there? I thought. And how will she get out?

The image haunted me all day long. It took a while to decode my emotions, but when I did, I accepted this living parable as a gift to me in my current season. It was as if God was saying,

“I see you.

Yes, you are fenced in right now, unable to travel far or do so much of what you thought you would do with your life. But the fact that you are restricted does not diminish your strength. And it does not mean you will be here forever.”

That doe was strength under control. She was choosing containment just as I am choosing it now for the sake of my little people.

And through forfeited freedom, I am learning the richness of soulful living.

Science calls this “potential energy.” Potential energy is the energy an object has because of its position, rather than its motion. It is a bicycle perched on a hill, a nearly poured-out pitcher of water or a book balanced on someone’s head. It is a doe behind a fence. It is harnessed energy, ready to explode into action. It is doors slammed shut, waiting for windows to be thrown open …Continue reading at SheLoves …

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