Jobs, Parents, Conflict, Hope

This entry is kind of long and all over the place, but writing it was very therapeutic for me. Our heavenly Father is always listening.

It's not always easy to be hopeful. When you're in the middle of the ocean, barely able to keep your head above water, it's easy to miss the spotlight from the boat that's on its way to rescue you.

Right now, my head's above the water, and I've caught a glimpse of the rescue boat. It's still pretty far away, and sometimes I even wonder if it's coming for me at all, but I can see it.

The job my dad has...well it's not really the best. He's working at a computer repair shop, and get's paid 1/3 of whatever the store makes from each computer he fixes. Which means that if it takes him 2 days to fix a computer, and they shop charges $60, he basically got paid $20 for working two full days. Back in the Antebellum days, that was probably a good living. In 2009...not so much.

Oh wait, I was being positive :) To be honest, I'm really just so grateful he has a job at all. You've got to understand, when you have an unemployed father, it's not just your bank account that suffers. I'm pretty sure my dad was depressed. I'm pretty sure my mom was, too. She criticized him for every little thing, and they argued a lot.

At first, I sided with my mom. I'm ashamed to admit, I was angry with him, and didn't want to respect him. Still, after hearing my mom say to him, yet again, "Will you do ____ for me tomorrow, since you won't have anything else to do?" in a degrading tone of voice, I started to feel sorry for him. I knew he was trying. He was still my dad, still her husband, still a human being, and therefore still deserved respect.

So when I came home for Labor Day weekend, after witnessing yet another argument initiated by my mom, when she looked at me as if to say "isn't your father so weird?" instead of agreeing with her like usual, I stood up for my dad. At first, I just said "I'm not very happy with either of you," which was true. She was taken aback by this comment, and wanted further explanation. I told her that I was tired of her picking at every little thing my dad did. We talked a little about this, but she didn't seem very open-minded. I went to bed thinking that I'd made no difference, but praying that God could.

The next day, there was no fighting. I'm not sure if my mother mentioned to my dad what I'd said to her, but I have a feeling she did not, out of pride. After everything we've gone through since January when he lost his job (yes, this arguing and putting down my dad had gone on since then), I realized it wasn't my dad's lack of job that was the problem. It wasn't his computer game playing. It wasn't a lack of motivation.

The problem was my mom.

After nine months of stress, sadness, and anger, all it took was my mentioning my concerns to my mom for her to take a look at herself and realize what she'd been doing, and that she wasn't the only one in pain.

I think that's the worst part of going through a struggle. I've been thinking all along I was the only one suffering, while my mom had been thinking only she was suffering.

So what can I learn from this? Sometimes when you think you're the only one in pain, as soon as you speak up and tell someone about it, you'll realize they are in pain, too. If you're lucky, the source of your pain may even go away, because it's healed. [That doesn't make sense, I know, but it did in my head.]

And guess what? The very next day, after I asked my mom to think about what we'd discussed, after I figured she'd just go to sleep and not think a second thought about it? When I poured out my heart to her [and held off my crying until I could talk to Wayne, which is very unlike me] and figured she didn't care one bit? Well I have a feeling she had a little talk with God after I left the room, because do you know what happened the very next day?

My dad got a job.