Rejection Stinks

Life is unsettling. Mine is unpredictable at best. July 4th was not what I expected this year.

Last Wednesday I received a phone call from the dispatcher at the temp agency I drive for. A company needed a driver with doubles endorsement to take a load to Amarillo. I would need to go in on the 4th to take a test to ensure them I know what I’m doing with their equipment.

I was promised to be paid for four hours for the test that would take maybe an hour. That made it hard to pass up.

The load wasn’t scheduled to depart until 4:30 Friday afternoon. That meant an overnight drive, something I haven’t done in quite a while and didn’t look forward to, but the pay was too good to turn down.

A few hours later I received a text that the load had cancelled. That meant I had to contact the Apainter Paul to tell him I am now again available to paint for him after the 4th.

I warned you my life is unpredictable.

I also got a phone call from Carter Bloodcare that they are very low on blood and set an appointment for me to donate on the 4th. I wasn’t aware they’d be open on the holiday but was more than happy to make up for the appointment I had to skip last Sunday because I had to drive then, too.

So, after sleeping in, I went in to sacrifice a pint of my life sustenance for someone who will need it soon.

Before you can donate there’s a set of preliminary steps that must be taken care of. First is registering on the computer. Then you have to answer a couple dozen questions that are the same each time. The only two I answer yes to are “Are you feeling well and healthy today?” and “Have you read the information packet today?”

After that is a mini-physical where they check your blood pressure, pulse and iron count in your blood.

That’s when everything came to a screeching halt because my pulse was too low. I’m thinking “really? why would being very fit be used against me?”

I didn’t matter. My pulse was 44. It needed to be at least 50. It’s usually in the 50’s. I guess I should have enjoyed a cup of coffee before I went in.

We waited ten minutes and rechecked it. During the break I did a few simple exercises to try to get my heart pumping faster.

I got it up to 48. Still two beats per minutes too slow. Too bad. Apparently whoever needs my blood doesn’t need it until next week.

I went back in Sunday afternoon after watching toddlers. That worked. My pulse was 54.

So that’s two bouts of rejection in two days. It shouldn’t have been anything big unless you’ve experienced the ultimate human rejection of divorce.

It didn’t help that I listened to a song titled 17. It was posted on an online Christian divorce group. It was written and sung by one of the other guys who experienced the same rejection.

That’s three waves of the same theme. What’s a fella to do to combat that?

He trims his one and only plant named Phil.

Phil is my COO (Chief Oxygen Officer). He’s a philodendron. That’s a plant that’s hard to kill.

The original plant was given to me and Barb by one of her friends when we helped her move. I’ve since grown two more pots of Phils from cuttings off of the first Phil. I leave them by the only window that gets afternoon sun. All I have to do is water them once a week.

I noticed one of the vines was yellow, not a good color for a green plant. So I traced the path of that vine only to discover that four of the vines I saw crossing behind the table they set on were the same plant.

That necessitated a trimming. That always reminds me of a devotional I had published online. It’s based on John 15, one of my favorite chapters of the Bible.

The theme is of abiding in Christ. It uses the illustration of a gardener trimming plants to get the most out of them.

There was one sentence of the devotional that was edited out that tied the whole lesson together. I pointed out that when I’m trimming Phil my head is inside the plant. That’s how close God is to me when He’s pruning things out of my life, too.

I know everything happens for a purpose ordained by God.

It didn’t catch Him by surprise when Barb left me, or the Amarillo run cancelled, or my donation was aborted. It only caught me off guard.

He knows what He’s doing and doesn’t owe me an explanation. I just have to keep trusting Him by remaining faithful.

So I’ll paint instead of drive. I’ll make less money but won’t worry about falling asleep at the wheel and I’ll worship God the entire time.

He promises me He’ll NEVER leave me nor reject me.

I’ll see you later. Wade