On Calling and Asking and Generosity

My computer died two Wednesdays ago. Just when it is becoming reality that I actually did quit my job to try to make some money at this writing gig, the one tool I needed. It wasn’t even that old. It for sure had the best copy of two books that I am working on. I for sure had been meaning to upload them to the cloud, but the machine wasn’t even acting funny. Until it wouldn’t start.

I met the kindest man who has ever worked on a Geek Squad and handed him my computer. No problem, he said. Let me try two other things, he said. I have one more person I want to ask he said. I am very very sorry he said. Is there anything I can get you? he said, as I sobbed uncontrollably into my dead computer.

My book is on there. In three weeks I quit job to be a writer (or seminary student) in two weeks. I rose up to my destiny and instead of rising up to meet me, the universe sucker punched me. I was literally doubled over and gasping for breath.

It was awful. That moment was totally awful. There was nothing left to do.

I don’t know why it takes having no other options to ask for help. But I know I am not the only one who waits that long. I started a GoFundMe page and went to bed crying. I woke up to 24% of my goal and by Friday evening I had met my goal. With Facebook often burying crowd sourcing links, many people I know hadn’t even seen it. I am still, even as I am typing this from my new computer, shocked at the support that was given.

If you are following along, you know that my family is living in a state of radical uncertainty. It is wearing on me. It is hard to keep faith, even the size of a mustard seed. I cry a lot. I worry I lot. I am mad at myself for worrying and that doesn’t really help anything. I still don’t have any answers.

I’ve been putting off writing this follow up post because I wanted this to change everything. I wanted your generosity and the speed at which you poured it out to be the first in a series of allthethings coming together. Instead, it has been the piece that I am clinging to. I am supposed to write. I am called to this life I am pursuing. My needs will be met, probably in ways I am not expecting. I should continue to swim into the deep end, instead of scurrying back to shore. With every stroke I am gasping for breath. I am not sure I am going to make it. But for now I swim on. I am choosing to trust that I will see the next shoreline any minute against the horizon. I am  choosing to believe that the rescue boats will come when I cannot take one more breath on my own.

If you donated already, and did not yet receive your thank you, expect one tomorrow. I can’t wait to skype with some of you! If you still want to donate, I would love to be able to update my website. Every kind word has been stored up just like every dollar. Thank you all, my rescue boats. 

You can find my GoFundMe here.

 

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