I was laid off a little over a year ago. Given my charmed life, I assumed it would be a few weeks or maybe a couple months before I had a new position. Or maybe my consulting business would pay the bills. As it turns out, neither has been the case. I’ve had a handful of clients and unemployment benefits, but it’s not been enough. We are making ends meet by drawing on a home equity line of credit. It’s unsustainable.
Meanwhile, my wife’s career has moved in a more positive direction. Joy has gone from working the night shift at Children’s Hospital to teaching nursing at a local university. In addition to getting away from dysfunctional management, she’s found even more rewarding work than caring for patients and educating parents: mentoring the next generation of nurses. The one downside to her new position (which she took shortly before I lost my job) is that it pays significantly less than bedside nursing.
If you Google tech recession, you’ll see bunch of headlines about 2024, not 2001 or 2008. Most of this is recency bias of course. Many tech companies are hiring. But there seem to be many more excellent candidates in the market than normal and it’s usually easy to justify cutting community expenses. So I’ve sent out more applications than I can count, been interviewed for a few jobs and lost out to someone who (presumably) has more relevant skills than I do. I have a second interview for a Communities Manager at the OpenSSL Foundation tomorrow, which is the closest I’ve been to the finish line since, well, I started looking for a job last year. I’m hopeful, but it’s probably a 50% chance that someone will beat me out there too.
The weekend before Thanksgiving, we went on a medical mission sponsored by Joy’s department. We drove down to Ensenada to help disabled orphans, “abuelos” who were without the support of family for some reason and migrant workers from Oaxaca. We tend to think of Mexico as a poor country and it lacks many of the resources we only notice in their absence such as reliable plumbing and well-swept asphalt roads. Mexicans tend to have strong family bonds that seem to be falling apart in the US. It’s the people who don’t have the support of a family (orphans, widows and migrant workers) who suffer.
So we came with vans packed with donated mediations and clothes and pots and pans and walkers and portable commodes. We dutifully declared our cargo as on past trips, but this time our vans were turned back across the border at San Ysidro. Our Mexican contact suggested the next crossing over in Otay Mesa. The Mexican customs official said he couldn’t sign off on us taking these items since it was technically illegal without a permit. So we drove to the next border crossing in Tecate and met another Mexican contact who volunteered to take our donations in the US.
Our missions pastor at church likes to say that in heaven the music will be provided by Africans and the food by Mexicans. There won’t be a need for health services, of course. Taking blood pressure, measuring glucose levels, treating for lice and giving prenatal vitamins will be things of the past in the new heavens and new earth. Not passing away, however, are activities such as spending time together and enjoying each others’ company. Our team (including our preteen twins) provided both physical and emotional care for some of the least privileged people around.
After we came back from Mexico, it was time to celebrate Thanksgiving. On Wednesday night, we joined what has become a tradition at our church of eating pies, singing songs and making a paper chain of what we are thankful for. Perhaps counter-intuatively, Joy and I had the most links to add at our table. Despite a year of futility, we saw our blessings overflowed:
- Our children are attending schools that meet their individual needs.
- People at our church have shown us so much care and compassion with prayer, financial assistance and checking in with us every week.
- Our construction project is finished enough that we can move in, but not so finished that we need to pay the final payment.
- We’ve been able to find ways to travel and have memorable family experiences.
- It turns out I haven’t made my work the core of my identity.
It’s been a hard year financially, but a great blessing since I’ve had more time with my twins and to reconsider the trajectory of my life. I just completed a half century of life and my 51st birthday was Saturday. (We celebrated by playing the world’s first disc golf course and eating at our favorite Thai place in Pasadena.) I was reminded of an ancient rule of the Israelites passed down by God to Moses:
And you shall consecrate the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you, when each of you shall return to his property and each of you shall return to his clan. That fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you; in it you shall neither sow nor reap what grows of itself nor gather the grapes from the undressed vines. For it is a jubilee. It shall be holy to you. You may eat the produce of the field.—Leviticus 25:10–12 (ESV)
Ever 7 years the land was allowed to rest, which might have been an early example of convertible husbandry. But after the 7th sabbatical year, the cycle was interrupted by the year of jubilee in which slaves were freed and land was returned to its ancestral clan. It was a year of redemption and making the world right again. And it must have been a terrible hardship if it were ever practiced at all.
Somehow, without knowing in advance, I have had something of a year of Jubilee in my fiftieth year. It’s not what I’d have chosen for myself, but the incredible peace I’ve had almost the entire year has been a proof to me that my identity is not limited to my occupation. And so I praise God and pray that my 51st year will be one of renewal and growth.