The last thing you expect to have in your hand on a Thursday morning is a severance check. The last thing you expect when you’re called into an ordinary, 10am meeting is to hear that you no longer are employed at the place that’s been your home for so long.
But that’s the position I found myself in last Thursday.
20 of my friends, my fiancé, and I were laid off from our jobs last week.
They had run out of money. Someone had to be cut. Those someones were us.
Our boss kindly but sadly told us that we could go home. We didn’t need to finish out the day or any of our projects.
And so with the tether that had held us in place for a year and a half suddenly cut, my friends and I drifted to the back deck of the office, not sure what to do or say or where to go.
One by one our friends joined us, until Carl came out — the last of us to hear that we were no longer employed at Adventures in Missions.
Carl and I hugged each other for a long time in a worn in spot that had held many conversations, and many similar hugs. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered in my ear, shocking me back to the reality that we’re getting married in just over three months.
We packed up our desks, still gripping our small white envelopes, and walked out of the office we could navigate in the dark into a future that was totally unknown.
At first we were all in shock. We told the story again and again, even though we’d all been there to witness it the first time. We stuck together like glue, not wanting to be alone long enough to rattle around in our empty homes, and our newly unstructured lives.
The best way I can describe it is going through a breakup. There have been days since this happened where I can physically feel my heart aching inside my chest.
We lost something that was really important to us, a place, jobs, a community, a family, and it just hurts.
I’ve wanted to tell you this story since it happened almost two weeks ago, but I haven’t found the words. It’s kind of like how I haven’t been able to pray, preferring to just sit with God in silence, knowing that he’s close.
And even now, even though some of the sting has subsided, and some of the fear has gone quiet, it still takes all of the energy I can muster to tell you all that’s happened. Grief and change just take it out of you. Don’t they?
I’m acutely aware that this season is going to be a big one in my life. I’m totally cognizant of the fact that God is at work, and that I’m going to look back and send God a big thank you note for what he did in this time.
But right now, it still hurts and it’s still scary.
I promise I’ll tell you the beautiful stories that have already come out of that Thursday. I promise I’ll share the lessons I learn through this season. And I promise to keep you up to date on the miraculous things that God’s undoubtedly up to right now.
But for now, I just want to ask you to pray with me.
Pray for me, and Carl, and all of our friends who’s lives have been turned upside down. Pray that we grieve well and heal fully, and that we allow God to prepare us for the next big thing in his plan for our lives.
And pray anything else you can think of. Like I said, I’m not the best pray-er these days. I could use some help.
Also—if you know of any job opportunities, I’d love it if you’d send them my way.
Carl is applying for creative director and design positions, and I’m applying for online content management and social media positions. We are not attached to any particular location at this point, so we’d love to hear if you know of anything.
Thank you for caring about me and Carl and our friends. And thank you in advance for your prayers.
I love being part of this community that embraces hard seasons and messy people. I’m honored to get to share this hard, messy story with you.