Two posts ago, if you recall, I said all I want for Christmas is a job.

Well, I got one. And not the animal control job, either (although they did offer me that one, but I got the low-down on it in the interview, and trust me, it would NOT have been a mentally healthy job for me). Instead, I got a job that perfectly fits the needs we layed out six months ago. I'm the recieving guy at Price Cutter supermarket in Siloam. It's perfect. Only 30 hours a week (even if they are morning hours), my weekends free and just the right wage.

So, it's Christmas Eve. But it doesn't feel like Christmas Eve. Not to me, right here and right now. And tomorrow won't feel like Christmas Day either, I'll bet. I can't say why for sure. But, it doesn't matter. What matters is that God waited until Heather and I were on the verge of complete brokeness, until I was ready and willing to accept a job that I knew would be bad for me, and He answered prayer. He orchestrated things to his liking (i.e. my applying for a job at a place that the very day I applied had a position open, and it was a position that I have experience in) and, depsite my sense of desperation, was faithful to me.
To punctuate just how desperate we were, Heather and I are still going to have to borrow money to get us to my first paycheck. But we know that we can pay that money back within a couple months. And it feels good to know that. Finally.

Merry Christmas.