changing directions

From age 6 to age 11, I used to spend nearly every Friday and Saturday night at the local rollerskating place. Round and round I'd go with all the other kids, and the teenagers with their hands in each other's back pockets, clapping and singing along to Kool and the Gang's "Celebrate" and Prince's "Little Red Corvette," the disco ball throwing flecks of light across the worn, wooden floor, the scent of lemon disinfectant spray heavy in the air.  Every half hour, a loud bell would ring and the DJ would announce, "It's time for everyone to turn around and skate in the reverse direction!" And, obediently all of us would drag our rubber-stopped toes along until we had slowed enough to turn and go the other way...never giving any thought as to WHY we needed to change directions...just doing it, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to completely reverse directions on a regular basis, as though it were interesting and even....fun.

My nearly perfect summer is coming to an end in several ways, but only one that I'm ready to talk about.  As much as I wanted it to last, it really has felt like I've been waiting these last two months for that bell to ring. That mandatory call to switch directions. Things had been far too easy. Far too happy.

Sooner than I thought, and even sooner than they'd expected (due to budget rearrangements), my freelance internship job at the PR/Marketing place came to an end yesterday. I did great work, and I go with stellar recommendations--they'd even hire me if they could--but, like everyone else, even the  best companies are hurting and having to stay slim for a little while longer. I have loved every minute of it--my co-workers and their creativity, my boss and his high fives, my orange desk and comfy chair, free parking, ping pong tournaments, the vibe of being downtown every day, lunch breaks where I got to walk to some great little cafe and sit and observe and read or write. I think most of all , though, I will miss the security. And the money.


Yeah. Money and security are nice things to have. Especially with four children and a mortgage. And no one to fall back on.

I'm not doubting, mind you, nor feeling sorry for myself. Knowing I did my best,  I'm surprisingly at peace about the whole thing. I picked up another design job to get me through October. I will continue to do what I can to help Fusion magazine (whom I write for) take off to the point they can start paying competitive rates. I've updated my resume to now include strong organizational and research skills, work with nonprofits, and solid training in social media marketing. I put together a list of possible leads and contacts. My job will now become to find a job.


I have no idea what will happen...but I hope it will be something good. I have to trust there's a reason and a time for everything.

Am I weary of living in this constant state of uncertainty--physically and emotionally? You betcha. Years of it can take a toll on even the best of us. But, just like the call to skate in the reverse direction, if I don't stop and turn when I'm told to, I'll get ran over. Skating upstream is no good. So, I continue to make the best of it, to see the adventure in it all, to embrace the possibility. To try and be strong and optimistic, especially for my boys.

And when I feel the most threadbare and worn and doubting, I picture myself wrapped in my Savior's arms--much the way Brad used to hold me when I was afraid--and Him holding onto me for all He is worth and reassuring me, "It's ok, Jen. I'm the one asking you to do this, and we're going to get through it together. Trust me." Then, because I am ever prone to silliness, I even picture the Savior wearing roller skates. And Mr. Roboto playing in the background. And I smile. I think He's fine with that :)

Here's to my reverse direction. My next adventure.