We see it in the eyes of fellow foster and adoptive parents often. Desperation, and shame. If you were offered a spot on a private island, where you could hide from the world, you would take it. We understand because we’ve been there.
I decided to wait an extra hour before making the 20 minute drive home from my office. That way, it would be dark when I pulled into my garage. None of my neighbors would see me. They would all be settled in for the night. I had a reason for this. Earlier that day the police had been to my house and escorted one of my children away in handcuffs. Handcuffs.
One year ago today, I was suddenly fired from my job at a church. The experience was devastating and embarrassing. But one year later, I’m living a bigger purpose than I could have imagined.
Numb. That’s the word I would use to describe the feeling I felt when my supervisor looked at me and said, “We’re releasing you from student ministry.”
Actually, numb communicates a feeling. I had none. No expression on my face either. After the HR Director finished his spiel about what I had to sign, what I had to agree to, and what I had to leave behind, I shook their hands, and quietly walked out of the office we were meeting in. In my right hand were severance papers. Never in a million years would I have dreamed I would carry severance papers!