May day. It was a day of rest for most who were employed. I was at home, and I was not working; but it wasn’t a holiday for me. No, there are no “holidays” or “weekends” when you’re working freelance.
As I was busy doing nothing gainful or productive in any way, the doorbell chimed. I peeked out my window to see two ladies, lacking any appeal in physical outlook or presentation whatsoever, standing just outside the boundary of my gate which I had left ajar for convenience. I could tell from they way the stood that they were eager to speak with whoever might come out of the door, yet respectful enough to not breach my compound despite the lack of a physical barrier.
I discounted the likelihood of them being neighbors bearing a friendly message or a gift. They wanted something. I could just smell it.
As I quickly but reluctantly went downstairs to the front door, I made up my mind to tell them I had no job, which was technically true. Having no job doesn’t mean I have no income, but sales people tend to assume otherwise, and so this has always been my repertoire when I’m faced with a situation where it would be easier to respond to than ignore anyone trying to sell me something.
As I approached the ladies, the younger of the two spoke up. “We’re Jehovah’s Witnesses,” say announced. “Oh, dear,” I exclaimed to myself while trying to keep my thoughts from escaping through my facial expressions. My counter-pitch of not having a job wouldn’t work. They didn’t want my money. They wanted my soul. Or something.
I quickly thought up a suitable response that would get them to move on to another household with good haste. I told them I was Catholic and wasn’t interested, and it worked as surely as telling a headhunter I just got a new job would get them off my tail.
The truth is, I haven’t been to going to church. I haven’t been “speaking” to “God”. I haven’t been practicing any form of worship. Not in a long time, I haven’t. But I couldn’t tell them that.
I don’t need religion to have faith, just as I don’t need a job to have work. I don’t need to go to church to be a good person, just as I don’t need to go to the office to earn money. I don’t need to worship “God” to be thankful for the wonderful life I have, just as I don’t need to answer to a boss in order to perform gainful tasks.
I’ll continue to work and have faith, in ways that some people might not understand, in ways that some people might think is wrong. I’ll do it because I know what I am worth, in terms of my own principles and in terms of dollars and cents.
The truth is, I’ve never been more terrified, and I’ve never been more comfortable. I’ve never been so busy and felt so free. My liberty from traditional confines has sent me into a free fall, and I am not only forced to grow wings before I plummet to my end, but I am also enabled through necessity and desperation.
Though I do not know “God”, I know of trials, and faith, and blessings, and love.
I know of trials, of how I must triumph over all challenges I face. In times of difficulty and struggles, I must choose either failure and demise, or to rise a Phoenix through the flames and out of the ashes.
I know of faith, which prudence and planning can never replace. When there’s no guarantee that I will survive, I brave the uncertainty armed with nothing but hopeful perseverance and an illogical knowing that everything will be fine.
I know of blessings, which I receive in undeserved abundance. Though many-a-time have I faced calamity, it never has been – in retrospect – without leading to good things in my life.
I know of love, which she enabled. Through trials, with faith, she has been my blessing. It is through her love that I know, though I do not know.