Remembering My Conspirators

On this wet-weather Thursday morning, I'm lounging on a sofa with my legs propped up, typing this slowly, in no hurry at all. I have the best job(s) I could ask for. Graphic design, done on my own time. A part-time lecturing position at my old university, two nights only. It's easy to think of my good life as "mine"--something I worked for, something that proves how good I am.

When in fact, I don't deserve any of it, and didn't even know how to ask God for these things.

It's easy to forget--so I must work daily to remember.

To remember that back in school, it was my classmates who linked me up for my first illustration job. A couple of guys who were older and had worked before. One called his friend during his smoke break and got me connected with his fashion writer friend. Another taught me how to write my first invoice. They pushed me out there before I even knew this freelance world existed.

I must remember the other classmates who taught me all the tools: Illustrator, FinalCut, a penknife and a ruler. The ones who shook their heads and helped me.

I must remember that it was Lena who had chatted up old lecturers at a grad show, and who had then come excitedly to me at my grandmother's funeral saying, "I think I got you a job!" It was Lena's people skills that first opened the door for me to start teaching. And then it was utterly unhidden favour on the part of my ex-painting professor to trust me with two classes all on my own, without the qualifications or age of other lecturers.

Favour, before I'd even realised that I was going to be a lecturer. All along I thought the job I'd gotten was to be a teaching assistant, making $15 an hour. Now I have assistants, who come to me with a time chit for me to sign off on so they can earn that $15 an hour.

Did I fall into luck? No, I don't believe in luck.
I believe in the provision of God. The same God who made sure different people helped my family get by all these years they've been in fulltime ministry. The kind of provision that surprised me with my school fees appearing in the mailbox when I needed it.

His is a love that thinks two steps ahead of what I can see. Beyond what I think I need right now.

And sometime ago, I knew I needed some new, meaningful work to anchor my weeks. My dated diary was filling itself with movie reviews and places I'd eaten in, and very little work that mattered. So this is what I asked God for. Tiring, important work.

I thought He replied with the teaching assistant job. It paid so little that I could have rejected it--but I didn't, because I knew He was answering me.

Knowing this is from God is important. It gives me confidence to stand in front of students at night, when my typical response would be to get nervous gastric attacks. It tells me that God knows I can do this, even if I know I can't.

Thank God for creating us to work hard. Thank God for work.
And thank God for the people He's placed in my life.

Like Cory Booker said in this stirring speech (click! youtube video), I am the product of a conspiracy of love, and I must never ever forget the conspirators in my life.