I am not complaining.
I am so very grateful for the hospitality I have experienced.
Still, it hit me today:
I am homeless.
It is frustrating. I am only 2 and a half weeks in. If I get hired for a job tomorrow it will still be weeks before I will have the money required to pay a deposit to move in anywhere, and there is nothing I can do about it.
So I wait.
I wait to hear if the job that I want wants me as badly as I want them.
I wait to see if anything else opens up.
I wait on the Lord.
I have a bed, keys to a friends place, places lined up so that I can move once a week for the next few weeks.
And I am waiting.
Waiting to know if I need to move to another city.
Waiting to know how I will find the money to pay my bills.
I am waiting.
Hoping that I am not a burden.
Hoping that I am learning and growing.
Hoping that someone will see that my ability to learn a skill trumps my lack of experience.
Hoping that a job that fits the years of experience I do have will open up.
Hoping that when this is all said and done I will be stronger, and more able to serve others than I am today.
Hoping for the day I take my friends out to say thank you.
Hoping and waiting are painfully intertwined in my world.
Still I anticipate the redemption of this moment, even as I already see that it is being redeemed.
As I used to sing at UBC on a great many Sunday mornings:
"Rescue is coming." (DCB)
Still I will tell you, even as I hope for it I wish it was already here.