Categories: uncategorized
Date: 25 November 2007 21:11:09
Things weren't going brilliantly at work. Well, that's an understatement. The company I was working for had once been the provider of the biggest selling database software in Europe. In the early 90s (when I first started working for them) they employed at least 200 people in the UK alone, let alone the various subsidiaries around the world. By 2002, it had gradually shrunk to about 50 people occupying a rather dingy office above an Estate Agents in Romford. The Managing Director (a man who I'd always admired) had appointed a "consultant" to "sort things out". We all knew what that meant. He was obviously a hatchet man. The question we were all asking ourselves was "Who'll be first?"
The last day of the month was always good. That's the day we got paid. For a short while it meant there'd actually be some money in my bank account. It was pay day, at about 5.00 when I was just getting ready to go home. My line manager asked me into his office. In the office was also the "consultant". I knew it was a Bad Thing.
We sat down. The conversation was somewhat one-sided. "I''m afraid a have some bad news... blah blah blah... drop in profits... blah blah blah... we're very happy with your work... blah blah blah... we're very grateful for all you've done for us... blah blah blah.. but I'm afraid you are being MADE REDUNDANT WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT...." ( I think there were some more "blah blah blahs after that, but I wasn't listening)
About a year before this, I'd given up smoking. OK, I'd occasionally lapsed and had the occasional cigar in the pub, but by and large I'd remained clean. On leaving the office, my first act was to call into the newsagent next door and buy a packet of 10 cigarettes. (Just as an aside, why is it that after giving up smoking, buying a pack of 10 doesn't seem to count in the same way that buying a pack of 20 would? Only smokers or ex-smokers will understand what I mean here)
I knew I wasn't going to starve. I left with a cheque amounting to a months salary plus a small amount of redundancy payment. I was pretty confident that I'd get another job. The ideal situation would be for me to get a job before the redundancy cheque had even cleared.
That wasn't so easy. I sent my CV off to anyone and everyone I could think of, but it seemed that the only way to get any sort of job in IT was either to be a 16 year old with expertise in playing computer games or a high level university graduate. I was neither. Apparently, experience and a decent track record counted for nothing.
One day, I saw an advert in The Guardian for a charity looking for a database & network administrator. A few years earlier, I had worked for a charity doing just that. I sent off for an application pack. The full job description was an exact description of what I'd been doing with said charity. I filled in the application form giving a full account of all my database and network experience and really laid it on with a trowel about my experience working in the Charity Sector. I figured that even if I didn't get the job, I'd at least get an interview.
I didn't even get a reply.
It was at this point I realised that I was wasting my time trying to get another job in IT. The trouble was, I didn't know what else to look for. The redundancy money had run out, and I desperately needed a job.
Throughout this time, Tina was a tower of strength. She was the first person I'd called when I was made redundant. A few weeks before my redundancy, we'd spent a wonderful weekend away together in Bruges. She was by now talking quite seriously about moving to London. I had become aware of the fact that whenever I walked past a jewellers, I would stop and look at the rings in the window. This was getting serious.
My church held a pilgrimage to Walsingham. I love Walsingham. I love the peace and quiet. I love the fact that I can sit and talk to God without interruption and that s/he can talk to me without interruption. I've never been a person to ask God for "signs", but I frequently ask for guidance. My prayers that weekend were for guidance as to my next step with Tina. I needed to know if it was right whether or not we should marry. I think I already knew the answer, but I just wanted to get things clear in my own mind.
The weekend pilgrimage has a very well laid out structure. I'm not going to go into too munch detail about the entire weekend, but it finishes on the Sunday afternoon with Benediction. After Benediction comes a period of silent prayer, when we all get a chance to pray for whatever has been our intention over the weekend. After this period of silence, we all sing a hymn.
My time of silent prayer was spent with God, talking about Tina and whether I should ask her to be my wife. At the end of the time of silence, the organ struck up the closing hymn. The hymn was "All for Jesus", the hymn I'd been singing to myself on that afternoon walking along the river the day I'd met Tina for lunch. Tears were streaming down my face, although I wiped them away very quickly as I don't do tears.
"OK God" I said. "I get the message. Help me get a job and I'll do something about it"