Never Burn a Bridge

This Thanksgiving will the three year mark since I was laid off (the first time).  The decision was business, and I understand that in my head.  In my heart I had a lot of emotion.  I have written a lot about it here.

I am not sure where I learned it (probably from Eva Jordan) that you should never burn a bridge.  You just never know when you will need it. 

When I think about this idiom I imagine a narrow rope and wood plank bridge stretched accross a very high canyon.  I don't really fear a "fire" but rather the ends of said rope and wood plank bridge giving out, or being cut.

For the past five months I have been back to work for the company that let me go almost three years ago.    I have been working in a "temporary" capacity until now.  On Friday, I will start in my "permanant" capacity.  I kind of laugh at the notion of being a "permanant" employee because I have been "permanant" before, so really what does that mean?

I could say that they wanted me back because I am Pretty & Smart, but that is not the whole story.  Five months ago a friend that I worked with in my previous engagement here said that I was looking for a job.  I got on because when I left, I left with grace and kept my hard feelings to myself, and to those who would not use them against me (ego kind of stuff).  I didn't burn, or cut down that bridge.

I am in an office that I really like, and working with a great group.  I am glad that I am here, and glad that I can rest my mind for a little while.  Can't rest on your laurels either!

Read the Blog

When the JorMats left the country I was put into a position that I had not been in before. I have been put in a lot of these different spaces, but the one that still stands out to me now 4 months later is the question, "How are your parents." I have heard many variations, "How are the folks?", "Where are they now?", "When are they coming home?"

I have been the JorMat's daughter for about 30 years now, and I am not used to being asked about my parents so many times. 

I give this post in jest because what they are doing is so wonderful. I am so glad that they are able to get to do go on a world wide adventure. They are really a minority. They have a lot to be envied for.

How am I?  In the past four months James and I have increased our fold by 2 dogs and 5 cats. I have had to figure out how to the get the electricity turned back on after a bird ran into the transformer. The fridge died, and I din't know what to do about that!  We now have a water leak that is slowly turning the front yard into the Elroy Bayou. 

There is a lot to do at our house.  There are sooooo many lives to take care of.  James and I are busy becoming stronger partners for each other.

Ask me.  Ask me how they are.

They are Pretty & Smart.  Read the JorMat blog--Mom gives better details than I can.  I am sure a book will be written too, and as soon as I have the information on that I will pass it along. 

By the way, I am Pretty & Smart too.  I am busy building character, and lengthening the apron strings.  Thanks for asking.

And the Next Day, and the Next.

This past weekend was the 9th anniversary of that fateful & tragic day in September.

Life does move on, doesn't it? I know that that day for my generation has been likened to assasinations of great leaders, and presidents from our parent's generation. I know that I have not forgotten about it, but the event has moved further to the back of my mind as the years have multiplied.

I was in the last semester of my junior year. (I only had two- I had three semesters as a senior, but that is a different post.) I was in class. I was taking a marketing class, when the professor came in to tell us what had happened. After class the whole business department gathered in the lobby of the building to watch as the second plane crash.

These were the days before this girl owned a cell phone, and you should have seen how many messages were on my machine when I got home! My mother had been sent home from her state government job, and had called about 15 times to check on me. My dad had called a few times too. We just didn't know what was going on, or what to expect next.

Dinner with friends followed. We all wanted to be comforted. I am not sure how we were able to get anything in with them hanging on the floor. Then the next day, then the next day, then the next. 9 years later the next day and the next.

Saturday morning, while trying my best to coif my hair to perfection, and listening to the news on my local NPR station I was turned to tears.

Still unable to wrap by brain around what really happened. Still trying to understand how there can be so much hate towards my culture. I am still troubled by all of it.

All of it.
The hate that those people had for our nation.
The hate that my fellow countrymen have for the religon that has been tried, and convicted in the court of public opinion.
My heart has been changed.
My heart wants the same forgiveness that God had for our whole world.
Now my heart breaks more for the ignorant hate that seems to have invaded our politics, our schools, and our religions around the world.
Won't you pray for them too? My daily struggle is to hope that the same forgivness that I have found in my religion can be found in the hearts of our brothers and sisters around the world.

God's Speed.

Morning Prayer

Glorious God, source of joy and righteousness, enable us as redeemed and forgiven children evermore to rejoice in singing your praises. Grant that what we sing with our lips we may believe in our hearts, and what we believe in our hearts we may practice in our lives; so that being doers of the Word and not hearers only, we may receive everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I hope everyone has a great day.