All Things Work Out For Good...

I look out of the main window of our lounge, and watch the strong gale lashing heavy rain onto the window panes. As the deep area of a low pressure weather system drifts across the UK, I am just about housebound, not able to take out my equipment to start work on my domestic window cleaning business. Not that the job would be entirely impossible, but rather such an endeavour would arouse wrath from my clientele, who would be obliged to pay for the work done. So much for the first working day of 2012, a year that promises the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the London Olympics, both events looking so promising to be ablaze with pageantry glory.

The Christmas break is over, here in the UK it's the first day back at work for all of us who has a job. But for the benefit of our American readers, I need to add an explanation to the last twelve days of the winter break.

I understand that in the USA, there is just one day of holiday, Christmas Day itself. Then it back to work the next day, unless Christmas falls on a Friday or Saturday. Christmas 2011 fell on a Sunday, perhaps seen by some as the worst day of the week, as the next day is a normal Monday morning, ushering in an average five-day working week. Now to all American readers, if what I had written is inaccurate, please let me know on the comments forum below!

Here in the UK, businesses (other than Retail) shut up shop on Christmas Eve, and remain closed right through until the January 2nd, with Boxing Day (December 26th) also a holiday. Because both Christmas and New Year fell on a Sunday, Tuesday 27th was also a Bank Holiday, and so was Monday, January 2nd. This makes today, the 3rd, the day all businesses re-open. This long, annual winter break had been slammed by the Press for many years, particularly over the 2008/2009 holidays when both Christmas and New Year (also a Bank Holiday) fell on a Thursday, which meant that businesses could not be bothered to open for the one day Friday 2nd, therefore remained shut until Monday January 5th, 2009, twelve days from Christmas Day itself. No wonder newspapers on that year went to town with their blasting of the bosses' apparent apathy which was the major cause of loss to the British economy by billions of pounds.

So with such a long respite from working over the Christmas period, today I was eager to get back to business, after twelve days of reasonably dry weather. But what do I find after getting out of bed? Fierce winds and heavy rain. Certainly not window cleaning weather. And I'm not alone. I would not at all be surprised that not a few employers of construction projects and of other outdoor occupations had told their workers to stay at home. But energy bills still need to be paid, the bank expect the mortgage to be paid on time, the landlord will still demand his rent, groceries still need to be purchased. Then there are those dreaded credit card statements which will arrive, after going into overdrive with the presents and other Christmas festive goods. So by natural thinking, the timing of today's adverse weather could not be worse! So screamingly frustrating. It would be tempting to cry out:

O God! Why, why are you messing us about? Do you get a kick out of all this??? You could have sent the rain over the Christmas break. We had all twelve days of holiday!

That would be the natural thinking of an outdoor worker such as myself. Then to add to this, I watch my neighbour, dressed in suit and tie, climb into his car to make for the office, where he expects to do well. Meanwhile, in the City, bankers trade and make a killing, executives receive bumper bonuses, and in the papers, a report is published that our train fares have risen by over six percent, bad news for the daily commuter, yet alongside this, our Members of Parliament were claiming refunds from first class travel expenses due to a loophole in the Parliamentary regulations. Meanwhile, Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs (our Interior Revenue Service) went soft on big money-making corporations while small businesses were hit hard by the Taxman.

Isn't there a God at all? Or is God the God of the rich, the middle-class, the well educated and the well-to-do? Is God, if sovereign, so crushingly unfair? Tempting it can be for me to think this way, at least I know better. Actually, the Bible does not teach fairness, nor that life would be fair for everybody. Rather it has this to say to all believers:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28.

I could add that while Christmas was centred on the birth of Christ, in Luke's Gospel we read the Doxology, where Mary cries out in Elizabeth's presence that, God had scattered the proud in their inmost thoughts, brought down rulers from their thrones, but have lifted up the humble, had filled the hungry with good things, but have sent the rich away empty. (Luke 1:51-53).

In all things God works for the good of those who love him. No matter what sort of things life can throw at you, they are for the good. Yes, it's difficult to say that when you feel that you are suffering a day of clouds, passing through the deepest darkness, a sense of despair. Just after Christmas Day, I felt myself sinking into deep fear, the fear of Hell itself. I lay awake on the bed, literally trembling with terror and shaking all over. The fear kept going into Boxing Day, I suffered loss of appetite, I could hardly eat. I can identify with the writer of Psalm 88:

For my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am a man without strength.
I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.
You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily upon me; you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
You have taken me from my closest friends and you have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief.

While sitting next to my wife, and clinging on to her, I examined my fear and decided that an evil spirit had entered my soul late that evening, for the fruit of the Holy Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control, against there is no law - not terror! There and then I asked the Holy Spirit to fill me, and almost immediately the fear melted away and my appetite returned. But the fear came and went for the next couple of days, until the Wednesday, when I completed a stiff workout in the gym and was then bathing in the sauna. (Not very spiritual perhaps, but where in the Bible does it say "Thou shalt not Sauna. Thou shalt not take care of thy health"..?) Suddenly, while swimming, I was thinking of the Lord and of my salvation, I felt a tremendous surge of the Holy Spirit within me, and in my mind's eye, saw the Lord himself, in front of me, assuring me that I was his, and he mine. Soon afterwards, someone with me in the sauna mentioned that he reads the Bible from time to time. Immediately I blurted out excitedly, "Jesus Christ is my Saviour too!" It was after that I realised that if I confess him before men (there were three others in the sauna beside myself) then Jesus would confess me to the Father before the angels. It was a moment of sheer joy.

A typical Finnish Sauna

So what might have happened about midnight on Christmas Day? I think that God withdrew his presence. I believe it was an act of discipline in order for me to partake of his holiness. Lately before then I was becoming spiritually flabby, allowing sin to creep into my daily living, particulary over the Christmas festivities. But during the period of intense fear, I also felt a purification of my soul. And sharing my plight with the church elders I also found very helpful.

All things work out for the good of those who love God. Being disciplined by God is a good sign, a proof that you are his child. Furthermore, it would always be for the common good, so not to perish with the world.

The weather forecast looks better for tomorrow. I'm anticipating getting some work done at last.

Come On, Mate, You Can Do It...

While browsing the Daily Mail online, I came across an article written by one of the Mail's bloggers, Dominique Jackson. Her piece was about why in the last year the number of unemployed British young people, aged between 16 and 24 years old, rose to over a million (imperial million, i.e. 1,000,000) for the first time over many years. At the same time, in the past year, 181,000 overseas-born applicants successfully landed jobs here in the UK, which is equivalent to 490 each day.

The general opinion for this phenomenon is that those who have decided to stay out of work are better off on benefits, which means that they each receive from the taxpayer a higher income from the State than one would from a low-paid job. They protest on why should they get up early in the morning to work their socks off at such a dead-end job, and at the end of the day, actually be worse off, with a slimmer wallet.

Makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Why work for less money? But this also highlight another attitude among the British unemployed, a lack of the work-ethic.

But it was writer Dominique Jackson who had revealed what might be considered the underlying motive. This is what she wrote, and I quote:

Urged by his parents, both mesmerised by the shibboleth of a University education, young Johnnie will eschew the lowly apprenticeship and fight for his right to a still coveted three years of further education...There remains a stubborn snobbery, in almost every sector of British society, about starting work on the shop floor.
(Emphasis mine.)

And yet, as the author also brought up, the now famous tycoon of Virgin Group, Richard Branson, did poorly at school due to dyslexia, and had never seen the inside of a University. Neither did Lord Alan Sugar, another successful businessman who built his empire from a market stall selling flowers in London. (Alan Sugar is the host of The Apprentice UK, our version of Donald Trump.) Really, as I have experienced, there is nothing wrong with shop floor work.

As I can testify. After leaving school in 1968 with absolutely no qualifications, my first three years of work were spent sweeping the floor each morning of two departments at a furniture-making factory. Additionally, in the wood finishing workshop, each week I had to clean out the two spray booths, the market stall-like structure with an extractor fan where lacquer and other finishes were sprayed on to the woodwork. This created an accumulation of fine white powder, which had to be cleared away. So I ended up literally covered from hair to shoes with this dust, as I poured it onto the bonfire some distance outside. That was my job, I never complained or objected. At least with the making of the teas, (a worker's custom here in the UK - the traditional tea break)- this was done by another adolescent in the cabinet-making department, who had to make tea each morning for the entire workforce, me included.

I personally believe that those years made the transformation from boyhood to manhood. Throughout that time, working in an all-male environment, I learned more smut and filthy talk in the first few weeks than from all my schooldays. And of course I was subjected to teasing. One occasion I was told to go down to the stores for a long weight. Thinking of some gadget essential for the job, I stood and waited...and waited. Then the penny dropped: A long wait! Well, look at it this way, at least I had a free respite without having to answer to the boss. And neither was I subjected to go out and buy a packet of holes, as one of my colleagues had to a few years earlier. Perhaps had I been sent out on such an errand, I might have returned with a packet of doughnuts, and enjoy a good nosh up in the men's restroom! But one very beneficial outcome from this work experience was that it made a man out of me.

In a sense, I never left the shop floor, even after more than 43 years of my working life. Only its nature had changed. I'm now self-employed, running a business cleaning windows at the homes of my clients, which I had been doing for over 31 years. The longevity of the business testifies that I must get some enjoyment and a sense of achievement from my work.

But I didn't stop there. During the last thirty-plus years I attended evening college voluntarily and acquired two G.C.E. "O" Levels, one in English language and the other in Geography. Alongside this, after confessing Jesus Christ to my all-male work colleagues at the furniture factory in 1973, my knowledge of the Bible began to take root and grow.
And may I add one interesting point to this saga. All I had at the time was a pocket New Testament, which was given to me some years earlier by the Gideons at school. When I took it in to work, so I could have a quick read during the break, our foreman looked at it with an element of fear. It also caused reaction from other employees, causing them to blaspheme as well as leading to hot discussions. How could such a little book have such an effect? A couple of months later in 1973, I terminated my employment at the furniture factory to take on a very different job as a pool lifeguard, having qualified in the months leading up to the change.

Later, in the early 1980s, I learned a little bit of computer programming at home, thanks to the good old Sinclair ZX81 home computer with just 1K of RAM, a shoebox cassette recorder for storing software, and a TV set with a spare channel! You see, by then, the church I was attending had attracted a group of young University graduates who worked at one particular computer programming company who moved into our town to trade in our area. During the mid 1970s I began to feel small and inferior in their presence. (See my blog, Alan Sugar at the Kerith? published June 28th, 2011.) The introduction of the ZX81 home computer with which I can actually learn to program was a great confidence booster! I actually believe that God was in this, opening a door to new knowledge, which rebounded in a better walk with God, Bible study and acceptance of my social status. But all this has never made me leave the shop floor, even when there were times I wished that I was able to. Yet I also knew that there was nothing wrong with manual work, unlike the thinking of many of today's younger Brits who believe that the shop floor is beneath them.

The ZX81 Home Computer, released onto the market in 1981

Then again there is a point when one wants to take on a particular vocation. One good example is a man I admire, South Today reporter Allan Sinclair.

On his South Today profile, he tells us that from boyhood he always wanted to be a journalist. But at age 14, he was told by the school careers adviser that he should pursue a trade in plumbing. I think Sinclair felt rather crushed. Why the advisor came up with such an idea we were not told, neither were we told if this student left school with any qualifications. But later in his life he worked as a journalist with various local newspapers before finally being hired by the BBC as a Regional News Reporter. Did he eschew an apprenticeship in plumbing because of snobbery? No, not at all. Journalism was his dream. And I believe that many, if not the majority, of worthwhile professions are held by those who had a passion for their vocation since their schooldays. This is a stark contrast to Johnnie, mentioned above, who only wanted to go to University to escape the dread of manual work he saw as something beneath him.

All this takes me to the Parable of the Talents, spoken by Jesus Christ in Matthew 25:14-30. Here, the Lord tells a story of a master who will be absent for a long time. Just before he goes, however, he chooses three of his servants and he gave one five talents, another he gave two, and the third he gave one talent. I do not know exactly how much a talent is worth, but I believe it to be several thousand pounds or dollars. He told each of them to use the money to trade and bring back a profit. The first two went straightaway to trade. But the third hid the money in the ground. Why did he do it?

I think it was because he felt that his master underestimated his ability, which made him feel resentful. In other words, the servant refused to believe in his master, while the other two believed in him. Now supposing that I was there, a fourth servant. I would approach the master and ask,
"What about me?"
"What about you?" He asks.
"You did not give me any money to trade with."
The master looks me up and down, and with his hand under his chin, mutters,
"Hummmph!"
After a long pause, he disappears, then returns with a small bag.
"Try with this," he says. "Its a quarter of a talent, but let see what you can make of it."

Wheres today I would have no idea what to do with the money, since I have no experience in stocks and shares. But back in those days the servants knew exactly what to do. And I would be no different.

Straight away I invest the cash in two cattle, a bull and a cow, and some sheep, along with their food, especially mandrakes - which is an aphrodisiac. Then I let nature take its course. I also use the cowpats for fertiliser over a field, and invest in some wheat seed, as well as fodder for the animals.

Over a period of time, harvesting yields a bountiful crop which I sell to the markets. The older offspring of the cattle and sheep, after birthing another generation, I would also sell to the market. So it goes on until I have a full talent by the time the master returns.

The first servant invested his five talents to make five more, likewise the second servant turned his two talents into four, and both were richly rewarded. But the master passed a harsh judgement on the one who buried his one talent and had nothing more to show for it. Then, meekly and with fear of the same judgement passed to the third man who had the one talent, I say to him,
"Lord, you know the quarter talent you gave me? Well, er, I made it into one full talent."
The master's eyes widened and sparkled and a big smile spread across his face, from ear to ear.
"WELL DONE, GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT!" He almost shouted. "Because you have been faithful over such a small thing, I will let you be responsible over bigger things. Enter into the joy of your Lord."

So the third man and I both yielded the same amount of money, a talent. But why such a contrast in the master's judgement? It was all because I believed in him, the other fellow did not.

And that's how God sees us. He does not evaluate by social status or level of education. Neither does he evaluate us on our nationality. He evaluates us whether we believe in him and of our availability to serve him. Whether one is a Minister of Parliament or Senator, a Doctor, Journalist, or for that matter, a cleaner or one who sweeps the streets, or clean windows, or empty the dustbins. God will always reward those who believe in Jesus.

If only young Johnnie knew that when his enthusiastic parents were being interviewed. Maybe their son would have readily accepted a "lowly apprenticeship" knowing that his main aim in life was to exalt and glorify God in throughout his life.