Saturday, 7 January 2012

In The Hand of G-d Part One

 Well it is Januray 2012.
So far, so good.
I'd just read comments made on the blog. Thank you so much for your good wishes and prayers. Even sharing what is going on in your lives.
We live in interesting times. For many, they give thanks for still having jobs, homes, good health. But they feel the pain of those who have lost any of or all of the above.
Up intil several months ago, I felt secure.
 Now, not so much.
After years of being on welfare, between private duty work as a HomeHealth Care and having a small home business, I worked myself off.
It is how I supported myself as I worked torwards my next goal; getting out Public Housing.
And that is when I met Mark.
As many who follow this blog know, we started off as friends, then became bestfriends. Finally, seeing that G-d was playing the role of Heavenly MatchMaker, we were married.
I was so thankful and blessed that Mark didn't judge me by where I lived. Grady Park was and still is a very nice neighour and pretty decent for Public Housing. He spend many an evening at my dinningroom table, sitting watch a movie or he would pick me up for service at Beth Messiah.
After we were married, we lived in my tiny little apartment for two months as we looked for a another place to live. Something bigger. Something nice.
 We found a beautiful place in Historial Ghent and moved. Making two of my dreams come true.
I was finally moving out of housing and I was moving to the very neighour I had spend years working torwards moving to.
I still remember the morning we moved out of my old apartment. I remember walking throught the empty rooms, knowing I was leaving to begin a whole new life. Welfare is a form of slavery, captured by cans and cannots and you have to work youself off to get free. Some, like my son, got out by joining the Navy, choicing to make an career of it.
Here I was, with a gold band on my left finger, standing in the middle of an empty kitchen. My fomer kitchen.
I couldn't help but cry. Neighours came to say goodbye, wish me well, thanked me for being an wonderful neighour and friend. I got hugs and kisses and even a nice card made by one of the children.
My next door neighour, an older lady, even asked me if I knew what I was doing the right thing by leaving.
I understood what she was asking. I was leaving the known, the safe. It would easy to stay and settle.
"What if that man loses his job? What if that man up and leaves you. They do that you know. Then what are you going to do, then. This has been your home for so long...." 
I understood her concerns, her fears. I was like a granddaughter to this dear woman. She had watched out for the the pass several months that I had lived in that apartment and I knew she would miss me as well as worry about how I'm doing.
My answer; "I shall do as I have always done, Trust G-d."
(She's since moved in with her son and his wife)
I said goodbye and waved goodbye to my old life.....
That was six and a half years ago.
Today, I am sitting in a hotel room after attending another military event with my beloved. He's gone to get supper while I apply ice to my right ankle. (I twisted it stepping on a stone) wreatling through fears of having to return to housing, to food stamps.
Not because my husband left me, but because other than hubby's unemployment checks and army reserve pay, there is no steady income. Mark, being an reservist has been looking work for now 14 months. Interviews that don't turn into jobs. I once again face an health issus we hope to get answers to this week.
We really cannot afford our apartment, so we are now looking into Section 8.
Frankly, I hate it. But I also know if things don't turn around, that is where we are heading.
My answer is still as it was six and a half years ago: I shall trust G-d.
It isn't blind faith, or I hope faith. It is rememebring how He cared for me in the past, that He is keeping us now.
And whatever happens, I keep one hand in the hand of my beloved, and the other hand, in the Hand of the Lover of our soul.
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