The hub recently lost the job he’d had for eight years. As soon as he left his office on the fateful day, and before he even called me, he called an outside vendor he often worked with. By the end of the evening he had an interview scheduled for the next day. By the end of that next day he’d had a phone interview with the higher-up, who asked for another copy of his resume along with his salary requirements.
He sent them off, and I continued my descent toward panic.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a worrier. Concerted effort has helped me learn a few tools for dealing with it. The two I use the most are the simple act of counting out long, deep breaths, and assigning a specific time each day for worry. The latter is not as odd as it may sound. Whenever a worrisome thought pops up, I remind myself that there’s no time for worry right now but I can worry all I want between 8:30 and 9 p.m. By the time 8:30 rolls around, I’ve usually forgotten what it was I wanted to worry about. This trick almost always works – the almost revealing itself during this recent stress.
Wednesday brought better news: the hub had follow-up interviews and was told to expect an offer early next week. The company is very small but it’s owned and run by good people he’s known for some time so we have every reason to believe that the offer will come through as promised, and that it will be a reasonable one.
The worry and fear betrayed by my cracking voice and furrowed brow turned out to be unnecessary.
Sometimes events reveal flaws in our character, or simply a thing or two we still need to work on.
This week’s lesson? Less Fear, More Faith.