As
part of my participation in My
500 words, I am posting what I write each day. I’ve spent the past
two days writing about fear. I’ve discovered something worth sharing.
My wife was still working at
Starbucks in the mornings and I was working custodial at a church in the
afternoon and evenings. We were living in a mobile home park in a single wide
with two add-ons. It was a little cramped, but we managed. One morning in
September our phone rang. We still had a land line.
It was the executive pastor
of the church we went to. We had been going to the church for 10 years and new
most of the folks there. My friend on the phone was more of a businessman than
a pastor. There was an opening at my church for a custodian. I liked the idea
of working at my own church. It would be the same hours and the pay would be a
little higher.
The next thing he told me
made me want to politely refuse. We would have to move. Wait, what? I hated
moving. Moving was a scourge, forget it. But I didn’t refuse the job. The
church owned a house just to the north of its property. They needed a custodian
who was also in charge of living there, answering the alarm and locking and
unlocking as needed.
When I thought about the job,
I realized that the church would become part of my family’s life. My kids could
attend any event they wanted to. They could come over and visit me or even help
me at work just about any time. I would be the on-call keeper of the keys. I
accepted the position, put in my two weeks at the old job and started my new
job in October of 2010.
The previous residents of the
house stayed in for another few months. Then when it was empty, my family
painted the insides. We moved in February and the move was just about as traumatic
as I feared it would be.
We now owned an empty mobile
home that we paid both a mortgage and space fee on every month. We cleaned the
place up and tried to rent it with little success. After a bad experience with
a realtor, we lowered the price to just what we could get by on and got a
tenant. The place is still a money pit and needs more work than we can afford
to do.
But the house we live in now
is a real house with a huge backyard. We own chickens that give us eggs. We
have two dogs and two cats. The boys have the master bedroom, but one son built
a fortress in the side yard that he lives in instead of his room.
The house is small compared
to many houses, but it’s perfect for us. It has a living room separate from the
kitchen/dining room/family room. I have a corner with my writing desk. My only
daughter has a room of her own.
I am responsible for locking
up six nights a week. I’m there every day, even my days off. Once in a while
the alarm goes off in the middle of the night or when someone accidently sets
it off. I respond in the golf cart that the church owns.
My duties are cleaning and
setting rooms along with some general maintenance. I have offered my knowledge
in other areas like scheduling and planning of events. I spend most of my work days
alone listening to my iPod.
Of all the jobs I’ve had over
the past 30 years, I’ve never loved one like this. I would keep this one for the
rest of my life if I could.
So, David… what are you afraid
of?
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