Meager Hope In Bad Times

Ginny came through safe, but Monday she found herself in a potentially explosive situation.

Her boss assigned her to a team interviewing applicants for 75 job openings. Over 300 people showed up wanting those jobs.

Extra security officers were on duty but nevertheless things got loud for a while as frustrated, fearful people vied for a job.

Now the job openings pay just above the minimum wage.

They are temporary jobs

They are only part-time.

The major requirement is that the workers be able to read, write and count.

Yet, some people Ginny interviewed hold masters degrees. Some of these desperate unemployed people drove down 50 miles from Georgia to apply.

An economic crisis grips our nation as millions of people have lost jobs, and one of every six homes are in foreclosure. The Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office says crime is on the rise in all areas of the city and that domestic violence calls have increased 40% in March as tensions and frustrations build.

And there is no peace.

Ginny and I understand the frustration level of these poor jobseekers. Back in 1977 I worked for the county mosquito control board. I grew mosquitoes for test purposes, a job I intended to stay in till I retired. A budget cut forced 18 of us to be laid off.

Now, a man who knows how to grow mosquitoes can find a new job anywhere—right?

Not necessarily.

After searching high and low for work, in frustration I wrote a magazine article about coping with unemployment. It sold. But not for much. So I wrote about coping with poverty.

That launched me in my career as a free-lance writer—the next rung on the ladder of unemployment. But I’ve kept it up ever since.

We endured horrible times of poverty and deprivation praying for daily bread daily. Knowing every certified letter was a final notice. Living without lights or water in the house. Living in HUD housing on food stamps. Fearing every phone ring was another bill collector…

Then the kids would bounce home from school proudly bearing class photos to be purchased at an astronomical price—and I’d see their faces when we told them we could only buy the tiny wallet sized photos instead of the big ones.

But we survived.

Battered, bruised, but we survived.

Back to back, shoulder to shoulder, Ginny and I fought the world like bears in a trap just to keep our threatened family together.

Many times I lost hope, I lost faith, I lost charity—but the Lord brought us through (In His own sweet time!) I felt useless, lazy, cast-aside, worthless.

And, believe me, when you get in that state, those feelings stick with you even when you survive. You know intellectually that the Lord knows His own and is a very present help in time of trouble, but that’s a hard thing to keep believing when you’re desperate and no end is in sight.

As my friend Wes says, “Sometimes when tribulation comes, all you can do is stand there and tribulate”.

Yes we survived, but even today I feel shell-shocked, a disaster survivor stumbling amid the ruins wondering what happened to my life. Yes, I trust in God and praise His name, but those feelings do linger

So, I felt terrible when Ginny told me about those frantic job seekers yesterday. I understand why they might be dangerous. And I have nothing to really offer the poor bastards.

Yet, I remember one verse of Scripture that I clung to myself during our own times of tribulation:

“I know the plans I have for you, saith the Lord. They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope”.