Greg’s been in education and youth ministry almost as long as I’ve known him. He has a heart for youth, especially hurting and troubled youth, and he has a burning desire to see them effectively reached for Christ.

I’m having him on the show, not because he’s my man, but because he’s a man of God with a vision (and the experience and anointing to put his money where his sanctified mouth is!)

I hope you’ll join us tomorrow on Speak Life Live!

Frantically I dialed the agency's number on my cell as I navigated the winding streets that took great pleasure in suddenly cutting off and starting back up on the other side of some park without warning.

Yes, I know: I grew up in this city. If you think that makes it any less confusing to navigate some of these crazy streets, you obviously haven't been to Waukesha. People who have been living there for years can still get lost on the way to the store for a gallon of milk.

Speaking of milk: I heard once that the roads there were built based on the grazing pattern of cows.

That explains a great deal.

"Hello? I am so lost right now and traffic's not helping. Can you let them know I'll be about fifteen minutes late? Thanks!" This was not starting well. I hoped it wasn't a precursor to the kind of day I would have.

But of course, it was.

Finally, I found the place. I'd gotten so hopelessly turned around in the process that I literally stumbled across it by accident. I could not, to save my life, tell you how to get there or be able to get there again myself.

Where to park? Hmm…there only seemed to be one-hour parking spots. That wasn't going to work for a four-hour day. Maybe further down the block.

More one-hour parking signs. Okay, around the corner?

You have got to be kidding. More one-hour signs. And the streets were so narrow that I had no idea how two cars going in the opposite direction could even pass each other. And that big, old delivery truck blocking half the street didn't help either.

Grr! I was out of options. "So…," I thought disgustedly. "I'm supposed to come outside every hour and move the truck until it's time to go home?"

Out of utter desperation, I pulled into a one-hour spot and ran into the building so I wouldn't be even later than I already was. I met the person I was supposed to report to and told him about my dilemma. He took me back outside and showed me all the places to park that I'd already passed. Yeah, that didn't help much. Then another guy who worked there warned me that:

1. Being even one minute late (or having your fender even one inch past the curb) would result in a $170 ticket.
2. Drivers often shot down those streets like they were at the Indy 500. I should always be careful when entering my vehicle as there had been a series of hit-and-runs (!)

Boss guy showed me, as an afterthought, the staff parking lot, which was approximately the size of your bathroom, and was crammed with about 25 cars, squeezed into the lot in no apparent order. Parking lines? Bah! We don't need no stinking lines! Just get in where you fit in.

Did I mention that while all of this was going on, it was raining?

I wanted to cry.

I navigated the truck through the maze of cars and giant dumpsters in a feat of driving prowess that would have made…well, somebody in the driving world proud, and headed back inside, where I waited for Boss Guy to show up again. But he was busy. So I waited. And waited.

I mean, if you wanna pay me for sitting there waiting, more power to you, but I kinda have more constructive things I'd like to do with my day.

Finally Boss Guy came back only to tell me that I had to go back to the front desk and leave my name and license plate number with the receptionist. This was in case someone needed to get out of the hodge podge they passed off as a parking lot, and they needed eight cars moved out of the way.

I trekked back down the hall to the receptionist, gave her my information, and returned, only to find Boss Guy gone again. More waiting. More thumb twiddling.

It kept getting harder and harder to remind myself why I was doing this.

Why was I doing this? Because I was trying to help my husband during a transition at his job. Didn't I go down this road before, with disastrous results? Yup, sure did. And here I went again. What was wrong with me? I just felt like I had to do something. Full-time ministry was not putting food on the table. One day, but not now. So I kept trying to help, and sucky stuff kept happening.

Sucky stuff like this. Let's recap, shall we? It took me forever to get there. Then when I finally arrived, I couldn't find a place to park. Then when I did that, there was nothing for me to do. So when exactly were we going to get to the part that made it worth my while to go through all of these changes?

Oh, goody. I finally got a task. In a room with another cougher. What was up with that?

The job was boring and repetitive, but that was okay. I could just get in, do my four hours, and go home. Not fulfilling, but it wasn't supposed to be. I would find my fulfillment in what I did after I got back to the house.

So here are my confessions for today:

1. I'm not entirely sure I'm supposed to be doing this. Sometimes I try to help God when He hasn't asked. I mean well, but when I do that, I just get in His way.
2. When I get in God's way, He makes me so miserably uncomfortable that I have to move out of the way. I think that's what's going on now, 'cause this job bites.

Sincerely yours,

The Temp

'Kay, so I've endured weeks of frustration doing temp work to help the managod who has been going through a transition at his job. So much ridiculous stuff has happened that if I don't talk about it, my head just may explode.

In order to do so in a way that will not depress me (talk about it - not have my head explode), and may actually help me deal with it better, I have decided to write a short series based on my misadventures, entitled "Confessions of a Temp."

I hope it makes you laugh a lot, or smile a little, or something along those lines. Cheers.

~~~

Chapter 1: It's Always Like That, Except When It Isn't...

As I leaned against the rail and let the escalator sail me upward, the mean part of my brain that likes to make me miserable began speaking.

"You dope! This is a sweet setup. You could've worked here if you'd considered that job opening a couple of weeks ago."

The other part of my head, the cool one that doesn't allow bullying, replied "Shut up, you oaf. Haven't you learned anything from the last full-time position? I couldn't walk, my knees and feet ached, ministry came to a grinding halt, I started getting depressed...What do you have: the short-term memory of a goldfish?"

Properly chastised, negative me retreated in a corner to sit in fetal position with her thumb in her mouth. Serves her right, the meanie.

After getting off of the escalator, I walked down what may possibly be the longest corridor I've ever seen in my life. Have you ever been in a dream where you had to walk down a long hallway and no matter how long you walked, you never got any closer to the end? It was just. like. that.

Finally, about 19 hours later (no, not really), I arrived at the temp agency suite. It had gorgeous glass doors, plush carpet, lovely wallpaper, a huge reception desk, and all kinds of whimsical accessories splashed around the room in just the right quantity. Not too much, not too little.

Negative me started to slither out of her corner to berate me again, but I remembered my lesson learned from the last time I got out of God's will to do my own thing.

"Sit. Stay." I commanded.

Back into her corner she went. Heifer.

Several minutes later, they told me stuff I already knew. I had advanced Word and Excel skills and typed nearly 80 words a minute. Nothing new there. But apparently they were very impressed, which felt quite nice. So impressed that before I left the building, my rep immediately suggested I consider a data entry position that was available.

Part-time, just typing, reasonably near my husband's job (good news for a one-vehicle family), and private parking. Good. I hate downtown. What's the point of working if you're going to sign your check over to the parking attendant?

I went in for the interview and got the assignment within a week. I was ecstatic. Okay. that's an exaggeration. I would actually prefer never to see corporate America again in my entire life, but I'm doing what I have to do to help my man until he can get a better job. So, I wasn't ecstatic, but I was at least pleased that I'd be able to bring in some extra cash for bills.

The place was great, like something you see out of a movie. High class all the way. I actually started getting a little excited about working in a joint like this.

What was I thinking?

People who have been doing a job almost longer than I've been alive should not train others. They're so used to the job that they rush through the instructions, which they of course know in their sleep, while you're madly trying to keep up on your company-supplied Office Depot legal pad.

It didn't help that our trainer appeared to have an innate desire to see her lungs with her own eyes. This was made evident by the fact that she spent most of the training time attempting to cough them up.

By the end of the training we had learned - if nothing else - to hand her cough drops on command.

My favorite part was when she had each of us sit at her computer (no sanitizing wipes or anything - I really do hope those were allergies) and do the data entry orders ourselves. I say it was my favorite part with the greatest sarcasm. It made absolutely no sense. There were approximately 475 screens you had to scroll through and fill out (not really, but you get the idea - there were a lot.) You were supposed to fill them out exactly as they were on the paper order. Unless.

Unless this particular phrase came up, in which case you were to type it a different way.

Unless this certain salesperson gave us the order and tried to sneak stuff in on the sly for commission.

Unless the order was faxed in because order fulfillment wouldn't touch orders with faxes as supporting documents (even on copy paper apparently.)

"So we're always supposed to enter the orders into the system just the way they're written, unless...How are we supposed to know what all of these different 'unless' cases are and how to respond to them?" my fellow trainee asked.

"Because I'm telling you," was our trainer's response.

Hm, well. That didn't help much.

I still tried to grin and bear it. I came back for day two like a trooper, thinking that maybe it would get better.

Not.

More inconsistencies, more coughing. I was ready to call in and ask for another assignment.

When day two of training was over, I smiled good-naturedly at my trainer and fellow trainee 1. Trainee 2 from the day before was conspicuously absent. I have no idea why.

I didn't smile because I was happy or because I liked the job. I smiled because that's what I do. I see people, I greet them, I smile. I'm a smiler. See?

There are worse things in the world to be in my opinion.

As I turned the corner, out of their sight, but not out of earshot, I heard the coughing trainer say "Such a pleasant person, such a smiler. We'll soon get rid of that."

Great, so I'm supposed to look like this?

It's hard enough to take work I'd really rather not be doing and try to be positive about it. But when someone tries to sabotage the joy I've worked hard to hold onto? I've already wrestled with the negative forces inside myself that try to keep me struggling with issues of low self-worth and hopelessness. I don't need anyone else messing with me in that quarter.

I called in to the temp agency as soon as I got home from day two, and let my rep know that this went way beyond data entry and I needed a new assignment. I never went back.

So here are my confessions for today:

1. I battle daily with feelings about my worth and whether or not things will ever get better in my life. Notice I didn't say I give in to those feelings. I fight.
2. I have determined that my peace of mind, my self-worth, and my smile are worth more than a part-time gig.

Just wanted everybody to know what was going on. I wrote about it in my devotional from last week and I'm sharing.

~~~

..."Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams." ~ 1 Samuel 15:22 (NKJV)

In this passage the Lord gave Saul very specific instructions on what to do when he attacked the city of Amalek, but Saul spared the king and kept the best of the livestock, thus disobeying God. When Samuel asked him why he had not done as the Lord commanded, he replied that he'd saved the fine livestock to sacrifice to God. Verse 22 was Samuel's response. God wanted obedience, not sacrifice. Obedience in itself is a form of reverence and worship to God, but rebellion, verse 23 says, is "as the sin of witchcraft." For Saul's transgression, God rejected Saul's kingship.

God's call to full-time ministry was very clear to me, and His command eventually overrode every one of my objections. In the following year, I watched Him grow the ministry and provide things in amazing ways I could never have imagined. But I allowed fear, worry, and what people were saying to take my focus off of God. I began looking at things we didn't have, seeing obstacles on every side, and, like Peter on the water, once I took my eyes off of Jesus, I began to sink.

I started doing less and less ministry and more and more job hunting. God never gave me peace about it, but I felt the sacrifice of my calling was necessary to help my family. I eventually took a job that, from the first day, caused me extreme physical pain to the point that I lost the ability to climb stairs, suffered extreme joint pain, and even struggled just to walk. No medication I took eased the pain, and I cried out to God asking why I'd had to leave the ministry I loved only to suffer so much trying to do "what was right."

It was then that the Lord reminded me that He'd never called me to do this. I'd done it on my own, trying to meet needs He'd promised to meet and please people who meant well, but were not there when He gave me my divine command. My pain and suffering were a result of my disobedience. My husband and I decided that I would leave the job and return to full-time ministry, where God had told me to be all along.

Whatever God has told you to do, you must do. He who clothes the lillies of the field and feeds the birds of the air will also meet your needs as you walk in obedience to Him. People will talk. They talked about Noah, Moses, and Jesus Himself, but they knew their purpose, and despite everything, they obeyed. God used Noah to ensure that all living things would not be utterly destroyed from the flood, He used Moses to end four hundred years of slavery for the children of Israel, and because of Jesus, the whole world can receive the free gift of salvation. So if they talk about you, well, you're in good company. Obey God. Obey God. Obey God.

Father, forgive me for sometimes doing things that seem good, but are not what You told me to do. Regardless of my intentions, not doing what You said is called "disobedience." Give me the sense to just obey You. You only want what accomplishes my good and Your glory. In Jesus' name, Amen.

You know what's really wearing me down right about now?

When church folks hurt you worse than folks in the world.

When youth say that the youth evangelism methods they're being taught aren't effective and nobody listens.

When adults seem clueless to the issues and struggles kids face, and the relevancy of the activities they provide is sorely lacking.

When kids at church treat your kids worse than the kids at school do.

When we put on a mask to hide the fact that Christians get upset, hurt, confused, bitter, angry, and ready to knock somebody upside the head just like everybody else.

When we think we can't admit that we're human and have struggles, and still maintain our godliness.

When your kid gets excited about a church ministry only to end up hurt and disenchanted less than a week later because of church folks.

When the realness Jesus showed when He cried, suffered, was frustrated, and got angry, yet still submitted to God, doesn't show through in how some of His followers act.

We need to get this stuff together. The world is watching. We need to have something worth showing them.