Sunday, June 19, 2005
Waterdeep and rainbows
I had a pretty lousy afternoon on Thursday. I had a lot of "Barbara is stupid" moments this past week, and Thursday afternoon was full of them. I missed a meeting--just completely forgot about it until 45 minutes in. It was so stupid--I didn't even have to be at the meeting, but I was interested and asked if I could go. Then I didn't even show up. I lost my nerve for walking in late, then spent 15 minutes obsessing about how stupid I was.
It was just as well I didn't go to the meeting, because it went all afternoon, and I had plenty of other work to do. But what I was working on just made me feel more stupid. I was comparing one of our books to a couple of competitors, but I felt so completely lost. I don't get symbolic logic AT ALL, and I was trying to compare content when I didn't even understand the chapter titles. What the heck is relational predicate logic, anyway? Grr.
When I finished the project, I looked it over, made some comments, and ran it by my boss. We ended up having a good conversation about the books, and my little benchmarking comparison was actually helpful. I was even able to make some intelligent recommendations about the content and ended up leaving the office not feeling quite so stupid.
It seems like whenever I get really discouraged at work, wondering if I'm where I should be, if I'm doing a good job, if I'm making a difference, God sends some small encouragement that confirms that He does have a purpose for me where I am. Sometimes that just comes from conversations with co-workers, or from a feeling of a job well done. On Thursday, it came in all kinds of ways.
When I started up my car to head home, my Waterdeep CD started playing, and these lyrics were what I heard first:
I got onto 280 and there was a huge, beautiful rainbow arching over the freeway. As I drove home, I had an amazing time of worship, singing along to Waterdeep and praising God for the ways He moves in my life and the small reminders he sends. He lets me know that I am not alone, that He does care, and that affirmation doesn't need to only come from how well I do my job. It can also come from a song and a rainbow, reminding me that God is sovereign and that he loves me.
It was just as well I didn't go to the meeting, because it went all afternoon, and I had plenty of other work to do. But what I was working on just made me feel more stupid. I was comparing one of our books to a couple of competitors, but I felt so completely lost. I don't get symbolic logic AT ALL, and I was trying to compare content when I didn't even understand the chapter titles. What the heck is relational predicate logic, anyway? Grr.
When I finished the project, I looked it over, made some comments, and ran it by my boss. We ended up having a good conversation about the books, and my little benchmarking comparison was actually helpful. I was even able to make some intelligent recommendations about the content and ended up leaving the office not feeling quite so stupid.
It seems like whenever I get really discouraged at work, wondering if I'm where I should be, if I'm doing a good job, if I'm making a difference, God sends some small encouragement that confirms that He does have a purpose for me where I am. Sometimes that just comes from conversations with co-workers, or from a feeling of a job well done. On Thursday, it came in all kinds of ways.
When I started up my car to head home, my Waterdeep CD started playing, and these lyrics were what I heard first:
It's just like you to bring beauty to ashes
It's just like you, Lord, it's just like you...
I got onto 280 and there was a huge, beautiful rainbow arching over the freeway. As I drove home, I had an amazing time of worship, singing along to Waterdeep and praising God for the ways He moves in my life and the small reminders he sends. He lets me know that I am not alone, that He does care, and that affirmation doesn't need to only come from how well I do my job. It can also come from a song and a rainbow, reminding me that God is sovereign and that he loves me.
| posted by Barbara | 7:10 AM