PACKED TIGHTER THAN A CAN OF SARDINES

Word on the street: budget cuts to state-funded programs. That was the summer buzz at work as our parents; teachers and employees followed the newspapers and awaited the decision from our program directors. Although most of the classroom staff was away for the summer break, the tension from us year-round employees was felt from every regional office. Worst-case scenarios played out in offices over each news update and interoffice email. When the initial bargaining unit date was moved to accommodate the changes in open-arena job bidding, stress and speculation ran rampant. At last count, potentially-lost jobs mounted pending governmental passage of a workable state budget. Adding to the scenario was how this would impact classroom openings, which certainly meant children and families without Head Start-provided services.

Oh yeah, the tensions, like the tides, were high! And during those weeks, I sensed from God a non-participatory role in the ensuing chaos. In fact, when possible “bumping” strategies were tossed around like a shuffled deck of cards, my only response to, “got any jobs?” was “No. Go fish!” I felt no worry. I experienced no fretting. And I made no deals. I knew God was in control and no amount of jockeying for position would change the final outcome. Was it “deal or no deal” to the escalating pandemonium? No deal!

Well, Friday the 28th marked the big day – arena bidding. In systematic order, two groups of classified employees were placed in separate rooms to await the outcome of those without positions. Once open job roles were filled, each group waited to “bump” an employee for a better position. Bumping, for those that don’t know, is just a fancy-schmancy term used for taking a position already filled by a less-senior employee.

For hours we were packed in those two conference rooms tighter than a can of sardines. The only spot available to sit was in a corner where they housed the electronic room dividers. It wasn’t much, but it was the roost on which I perched my belongings. I truly didn’t want to be there because of the assurance I felt from God, but it was strongly recommended that everyone attend. As the afternoon wore on, I had my own contingencies in place. Water bottle filled with ice? Check. Short stack of newspaper comics to read? Check. An unedited article to finish? Check. A stash of Christian women’s magazines to peruse? Check. I was ready.

Well, there were long pauses between job assignments. And the longer the pauses, the shorter the air supply. Almost two hours slowly dragged and I had developed a massive headache. You would think it was from the poorly-circulated air not flowing through the room. I knew better. I felt the spirits of fear and doubt manifesting themselves throughout disparaging sidebar conversations. Their presence was thick as fellow employees’ tempers mounted with each anticipated, passing minute. I walked out the room a couple of times just to breathe and pray. But once I re-entered the room, those spirits greeted me at the door.

I went back to my corner of the room to wait as well. However, when I sat down, I heard these words: “I am in control. There is peace here.” All righty then! “Peace. I have a headache from all this and I need aspirin!” Lo and behold, the woman sitting next to me had a bottle of Ibuprofen and within ten minutes, I was sleeping peacefully in my corner.

This story could drag on as long as my poor colleagues endured every angst-filled emotion those filthy spirits could dish out, but the purpose in the telling is quite simple. That Friday, God was in control throughout more than six hours of negotiations. Most of my colleagues fared well despite the stress they experienced. Some took a furlough package contingent upon state budget reconsideration. Some with mid-level seniority shuffled from one classroom to another. And a few with lower-level seniority found themselves surprised with a position where their colleagues, with much more service time, did not. All in all, the message was clear. When God is in control, there is peace in the peril, calm in the chaos and safety in the sanity. And like a mighty oak planted along the edge of a rapidly-moving current and its branches outstretched over the river’s raging waterfall, God continues to provide corners for His people in which to rest. In that room we may have been packed tighter than a can of sardines, but in heart and mind, we didn’t have to stay that way. Remember, Go Fish? Got any peace? Why yes, I do! And the picture on the card is Jesus!