Something is breaking loose. I can’t explain it naturally or logically. I sense it; I see it; I smell it; I feel it. I sound so televangelist as I write these things, but it’s true.
Since I’ve returned to NJ, I’ve seen so many doors. Doors with the potential of opening. Before I left, I could only see brick walls. Like the girl in Labyrinth, I did not see the openings in the walls.
For a few weeks prior to my homecoming in June, and for a month and a half after, I sent out over 100 resumes. Literally. With the avalanche of rejection, I gave up. I decided that to work with Beverly at her salon and that would be it.
Returning home from New England, I decided that it was time to put myself out there again, in the job market, that is. Apathy is not my friend. So, I sent out a bunch of resumes, a few of which really peaked my interest.
So far, I’ve set up two definite interviews. One is for a job that I would love. The other is for a job that it way too far. I’m going to interview with them so I can tell myself that I once interviewed for a professional sports team. I’m a goober and I love that about me.
The common thread that I’ve noticed is closure. I officially closed the door in MA. That season of my life is put to rest.
I’m back to the point where I can pray for The River. I don’t know if I will ever be able to dissociate myself from the abuses that are occuring–both seen and unseen–but I know that I am able, only through God’s strength, to pray.
Ephesians 6:12 says, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
I don’t want to wound anyone in the crossfire. I want to storm the gates of hell and watch the devil squirm like the worm he is.