Living Proof

Making minimum wage with my crazy family. Back when I was in middle school, I remember my friend Beth telling me about this Chinese takeout joint that was hiring anyone off the books. I had no idea what "off the books" even meant, until she explained it was just straight up cash. I didn't even have working papers. I made $4 bucks an hour and only worked on the weekends. Back then, minimum wage was $3.75, so I was really happy about the offer. I'd come home with extra cash so I could spend it at the bowling alley or skating rink. I was a happy camper. After high school, I started working for a pizza joint as the delivery girl. I worked my ass off. I was there for 12 hours per day, from 10am to 10pm 7 days a week. I didn't mind it because it was like my home away from home. I was working for a friend of mine. I racked in well over $50 bucks in tips from one night and didn't even make over $2 bucks an hour. Then my father dragged me into his fish market and r...

I’m working on four hours sleep and two cups of black coffee. The rain outside is somewhat comforting, like little pellets of God's tears falling onto my skylight windows. It looks beautiful. The raindrops are making tiny circular ripples in each puddle they create out on my garden patio table. As the darker clouds move in, the wind picks up, creating a beautiful dance for the trees outside. Days like these, I don’t ever want the sun to come back out. There’s a certain kind of feeling I get when it storms like this. I live inside my head. I tend to think too much, feel too much and react too much. Sometimes the rain brings out deeper thoughts on levels I never knew possible. Thoughts as: why are we here on earth? What’s our purpose? Why doesn’t God let us know why we’re here?  I know theologians and people of faith can bust that question in half and come up with a million reasons why, but truth be it: we will never ever know until we meet our maker. Why do we go through ...