I’ve been working now for about five weeks, give or take. Yesterday was not particularly stressful, but I think my pride has been bruised a few more times than I’d prefer. I think the simple fact that I’m on temporary contract through an agency means that I’m “cheap labor.” I’m not alone in this respect, as there are a few other “temps” working there, but I strongly feel that it’s unacceptable to call someone “just a temp,” or to think of the most mundane and menial task available, and then  force it on the temp.

I know that God’s teaching and correcting me the whole way, and I do stretch to see what it is that God’s got in store for me at this job. One month ago I leapt for joy at the prospect of work; now I’m sinfully complaining about my own human frailties (i.e., sinful pride). Am I too good to do the worst job? Do I really think that I shouldn’t be doing that job? Who am I to question God’s jobs for me?

Good questions to ask, but it doesn’t necessarily dampen the fire under my collar when I’m ignored in the kitchen or blank-faced in the hallway. There’s always a creepy feeling that people will point and laugh at me, that Temp, that guy who can’t get full-time work, and how much education does he have?

I often wish to project an image of myself that may or may not exist. And perhaps that’s why I’m so particular, obsessive about my wife’s appearances. The fact that she tries should be enough for me. But instead, I find myself obsessing over how she looks simply because of how it reflects my image. And that’s utterly unacceptable.

It’s like what Paul said in Romans (though not the same context): I want to do what I should do, but I end up doing what I shouldn’t do. I want to love my wife for who she is, and I don’t want to be so obsessive about looks and appearances; instead, I obsess all the time about her appearances, resulting in not truly accepting her for who she is.

Wow. I’ve revealed way too much here, but that’s the essence of blogging. It’s out. Done.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife, my son. They’re the two most important people in my world. But this problem that I’m dealing with has been a dark shadow over me for the past four months, ever since we returned to Canada. Either I’ve been influenced unconsciously by popular fashions and culture, or I simply haven’t been on my knees enough about it. I think it’s probably the latter.

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