What a head trip.
Life is… wonderful.
I spent the last few weeks seriously contemplating and rigorously praying about my future; asking for knowledge of God’s Will and the power to carry it out… it occurred to me that I may have reached a critical point in terms of working for other agencies in the “non-for profit” sector, which I have been a part of since 1997.
I was right.
Critical point indeed; this old timer woke up on the Sunday before returning to work knowing without question that working in a book store and volunteering his time in recovery would make more sense. The last few years really have been great experiences but at the same time full of disappointing realizations; a callous has developed on my forehead from hitting the wall repeatedly and it was time for me to let go.
After returning from my amazingly, beautiful vacation I discovered that I had no idea where the new office was going to be located; of course I heard we were moving offices, but the team kept saying “We’ll believe it when we see it…” and explained to me, the new guy, that they have been hearing about the “new office” and the “move” for over two months so it probably was not going to happen.
I automatically assumed it was some kind of hazing ritual for the new guy, but the manager confirmed the move was tentative so I relaxed, thinking I would be contacted should the move take place. Well I returned from trip and had no voice mails or emails on my work Blackberry, so again; I relaxed and took it in stride arriving at work the customary fifteen minutes before 8a.m.
You have figured it out already of course, the move had taken place…once my Black berry retrieved all seventy some emails and I found one containing the address; I made my way to the new location.
I discovered that the prior spacious team office area was now replaced with cubicles. Yes, cubicles and the walkway between the two rows of cubicles was barely as wide as my shoulders…
Something inside of me crumbled when I sat down at the desk and slumped onto my elbows, afraid to move my chair in any direction for fear of knocking something or someone over. So instead I slumped over my desk and attempted to make myself as small as possible.
You see, with the assistance of the Calgary Homeless Foundation the agency was expanding yet somehow, simultaneously running out of support money for direct client services and resources…I don’t think I am ready to get into that one.
I digress.
Needless to say, anyone who knows me in any respect understood immediately what a cubicle would do to my spirit, as well as mental and emotional states; the jokes began and they were relentless. I laughed because the alternative was not pretty and it was me, who decided it was a great idea to send the picture out, on Facebook and twitter, of the smallest workspace that I had ever seen for 8 people.
It is really making me chuckle now, as I write this because the tide changed quickly in a direction that I knew was coming, but not quite this soon.
The support I received when I returned that evening was incredible and obviously, the voice of God, or what I hoped and thought was God’s voice, whispered gently in my ear that it was time to go on my own.
I had been hearing the voice whispering gently but firmly for a few months, however I kept plugging along thinking something just might change. It is amazing how fear justified my complacency on this matter.
The memory of a few weeks prior plunged into my mind; that of an old timer in a fellowship I attend, informing me that an awakening was coming for me, he could see it in my eyes. Normally I might have listened and thought to myself I hope so man, I hope so and shrugged it off as weird. This time however, it stuck inside and percolated because of where my mind had been for so long.
It had been awakened and the time was neigh for the action is what I thought.
I prayed all that night and constantly the following morning.
By 8:00 a.m. on the Tuesday I knew I had to talk with the manager despite the “mitigating factors” which were attempting to loll me into staying longer and being safe.
The first factor: the agency was going to pay for my re-registration as a social worker in Alberta.
The second factor: the agency paid decently.
The third factor: I was scared to take the leap.
I was afraid still, but knew it was not good enough for any of the clients to stay just because they paid well and it was definitely wrong to have them pay for my registration knowing that I was going to leave afterwards.
I instantly understood the feeling I got every time I saw the manager and looked in the eyes of those hard working kids; guilt. My plan was flawed, but God’s of course was not.
Doing the right thing always means doing the right thing when you are able to see what it is.
At first I took the job because I thought it might be a nice change of pace and I was going to be the lone male case worker in the agency, but I quickly saw the job as something I did not want to do again; I had done the same job eight years ago as an outreach worker with families in the community and although it is not a bad job, I had moved past wanting to do it.
Filling out of copious amounts of forms one month, to do it again the next month and always feeling somehow helpless to actually spend quality time with the clients because the paper work is more important to funders.
Really, it was a stepping stone in order to leave the last place because my time there was complete and I knew that without question.
It is not that I find money awful or something negative on its own, but I don’t find it to be a good reason to do something that I feel is wrong regardless of the consequence to me.
There was a way; my family, friends, and readers paved it, as though they actually understood the crisis I was faced with and that understanding and love filled me with warmth. They were the voices of God that pushed me through the fear and the bullshit reasons to stay. They injected me with the courage I needed to do exactly what I felt was the right thing to do.
The manager was not happy when I sat her down and told her I was leaving. Managers rarely are; for some reason they misunderstand the 90 day probation period, thinking it only applies to the agency and the person would be insane to break the relationship on their own volition. And this particular manager was certain and specific when she explained the probationary period to me as though I was sixteen and working for the first time.
It made it a bit easier to walk out to be honest. I am a person after all and I do believe in the abilities and skills that I possess God given and experience earned as they are. I had no ill feelings though, as the people there were all well-intentioned, young, smart, and optimistic.
The world needs a lot of innocent optimism these days, perhaps those are the ones who will find the better way; with their lack of cynicism I hope they can transcend all the bullshit we may have put in their path.
By the grace of God I went.
And the by the grace of God I go today.
The feelings I carry today are light, love and a deep sense of freedom that I will not soon give up. I am willing and open to whatever God wants of me and by His grace I will remain in this place as often and consistently as possible to be taught and guided.
Now I work one on one with men in recovery and there are no constraints above my head as to what I can or cannot say. I can look them in the eyes and speak with them whether they can pay anything or not and usually they cannot, which is exactly where I wanted to be.
I will make enough for my bills and by His grace I will do exactly what it is I believe I am supposed to do; provide care to my fellows without much if any thought of the bottom line. It will be tight, but faith strikes me as the kind of tangible concept, which requires real work from me in order to actualize even the slightest understanding of it.
It occurred to me that I was holding on to my materials stronger than I imagined, but once the idea came to me that I was a prisoner to them, they no longer held me captive.
Instead I realized that all the stuff in the world did not make me happy. If I am supposed to find a cheaper accommodation, I will. If I am to go without more stuff I will. I am in the process of ridding my apartment of any and all extra clutter, donating it here or there in hopes that someone can use what little extra I have accumulated and may never use.
This will be a process, unfolding a little more every day, which requires complete faith in as many moments as possible. It is quite exciting and liberating that now I can put my ass on the fire and take whatever comes for it. There is no replacing that with some material gain or illusion of safety sitting in a cubicle.
Thank you God, for thee my Lord for thee…
Thank You,
David W. Lewry
Life is… wonderful.
I spent the last few weeks seriously contemplating and rigorously praying about my future; asking for knowledge of God’s Will and the power to carry it out… it occurred to me that I may have reached a critical point in terms of working for other agencies in the “non-for profit” sector, which I have been a part of since 1997.
I was right.
Critical point indeed; this old timer woke up on the Sunday before returning to work knowing without question that working in a book store and volunteering his time in recovery would make more sense. The last few years really have been great experiences but at the same time full of disappointing realizations; a callous has developed on my forehead from hitting the wall repeatedly and it was time for me to let go.
After returning from my amazingly, beautiful vacation I discovered that I had no idea where the new office was going to be located; of course I heard we were moving offices, but the team kept saying “We’ll believe it when we see it…” and explained to me, the new guy, that they have been hearing about the “new office” and the “move” for over two months so it probably was not going to happen.
I automatically assumed it was some kind of hazing ritual for the new guy, but the manager confirmed the move was tentative so I relaxed, thinking I would be contacted should the move take place. Well I returned from trip and had no voice mails or emails on my work Blackberry, so again; I relaxed and took it in stride arriving at work the customary fifteen minutes before 8a.m.
You have figured it out already of course, the move had taken place…once my Black berry retrieved all seventy some emails and I found one containing the address; I made my way to the new location.
I discovered that the prior spacious team office area was now replaced with cubicles. Yes, cubicles and the walkway between the two rows of cubicles was barely as wide as my shoulders…
Something inside of me crumbled when I sat down at the desk and slumped onto my elbows, afraid to move my chair in any direction for fear of knocking something or someone over. So instead I slumped over my desk and attempted to make myself as small as possible.
You see, with the assistance of the Calgary Homeless Foundation the agency was expanding yet somehow, simultaneously running out of support money for direct client services and resources…I don’t think I am ready to get into that one.
I digress.
Needless to say, anyone who knows me in any respect understood immediately what a cubicle would do to my spirit, as well as mental and emotional states; the jokes began and they were relentless. I laughed because the alternative was not pretty and it was me, who decided it was a great idea to send the picture out, on Facebook and twitter, of the smallest workspace that I had ever seen for 8 people.
It is really making me chuckle now, as I write this because the tide changed quickly in a direction that I knew was coming, but not quite this soon.
The support I received when I returned that evening was incredible and obviously, the voice of God, or what I hoped and thought was God’s voice, whispered gently in my ear that it was time to go on my own.
I had been hearing the voice whispering gently but firmly for a few months, however I kept plugging along thinking something just might change. It is amazing how fear justified my complacency on this matter.
The memory of a few weeks prior plunged into my mind; that of an old timer in a fellowship I attend, informing me that an awakening was coming for me, he could see it in my eyes. Normally I might have listened and thought to myself I hope so man, I hope so and shrugged it off as weird. This time however, it stuck inside and percolated because of where my mind had been for so long.
It had been awakened and the time was neigh for the action is what I thought.
I prayed all that night and constantly the following morning.
By 8:00 a.m. on the Tuesday I knew I had to talk with the manager despite the “mitigating factors” which were attempting to loll me into staying longer and being safe.
The first factor: the agency was going to pay for my re-registration as a social worker in Alberta.
The second factor: the agency paid decently.
The third factor: I was scared to take the leap.
I was afraid still, but knew it was not good enough for any of the clients to stay just because they paid well and it was definitely wrong to have them pay for my registration knowing that I was going to leave afterwards.
I instantly understood the feeling I got every time I saw the manager and looked in the eyes of those hard working kids; guilt. My plan was flawed, but God’s of course was not.
Doing the right thing always means doing the right thing when you are able to see what it is.
At first I took the job because I thought it might be a nice change of pace and I was going to be the lone male case worker in the agency, but I quickly saw the job as something I did not want to do again; I had done the same job eight years ago as an outreach worker with families in the community and although it is not a bad job, I had moved past wanting to do it.
Filling out of copious amounts of forms one month, to do it again the next month and always feeling somehow helpless to actually spend quality time with the clients because the paper work is more important to funders.
Really, it was a stepping stone in order to leave the last place because my time there was complete and I knew that without question.
It is not that I find money awful or something negative on its own, but I don’t find it to be a good reason to do something that I feel is wrong regardless of the consequence to me.
There was a way; my family, friends, and readers paved it, as though they actually understood the crisis I was faced with and that understanding and love filled me with warmth. They were the voices of God that pushed me through the fear and the bullshit reasons to stay. They injected me with the courage I needed to do exactly what I felt was the right thing to do.
The manager was not happy when I sat her down and told her I was leaving. Managers rarely are; for some reason they misunderstand the 90 day probation period, thinking it only applies to the agency and the person would be insane to break the relationship on their own volition. And this particular manager was certain and specific when she explained the probationary period to me as though I was sixteen and working for the first time.
It made it a bit easier to walk out to be honest. I am a person after all and I do believe in the abilities and skills that I possess God given and experience earned as they are. I had no ill feelings though, as the people there were all well-intentioned, young, smart, and optimistic.
The world needs a lot of innocent optimism these days, perhaps those are the ones who will find the better way; with their lack of cynicism I hope they can transcend all the bullshit we may have put in their path.
By the grace of God I went.
And the by the grace of God I go today.
The feelings I carry today are light, love and a deep sense of freedom that I will not soon give up. I am willing and open to whatever God wants of me and by His grace I will remain in this place as often and consistently as possible to be taught and guided.
Now I work one on one with men in recovery and there are no constraints above my head as to what I can or cannot say. I can look them in the eyes and speak with them whether they can pay anything or not and usually they cannot, which is exactly where I wanted to be.
I will make enough for my bills and by His grace I will do exactly what it is I believe I am supposed to do; provide care to my fellows without much if any thought of the bottom line. It will be tight, but faith strikes me as the kind of tangible concept, which requires real work from me in order to actualize even the slightest understanding of it.
It occurred to me that I was holding on to my materials stronger than I imagined, but once the idea came to me that I was a prisoner to them, they no longer held me captive.
Instead I realized that all the stuff in the world did not make me happy. If I am supposed to find a cheaper accommodation, I will. If I am to go without more stuff I will. I am in the process of ridding my apartment of any and all extra clutter, donating it here or there in hopes that someone can use what little extra I have accumulated and may never use.
This will be a process, unfolding a little more every day, which requires complete faith in as many moments as possible. It is quite exciting and liberating that now I can put my ass on the fire and take whatever comes for it. There is no replacing that with some material gain or illusion of safety sitting in a cubicle.
Thank you God, for thee my Lord for thee…
Thank You,
David W. Lewry