Memorial Box Monday: Cha-ching

During my undergraduate years at Ohio State, I worked to pay for school. I worked dorm security my freshman and sophomore years, 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. at least four nights a week, but it wore me down. College is hard enough without the crazy sleep schedule.

I scoured the campus for a new job with better hours. Some wouldn't take me because they wanted students in their area of study to fill their positions. Other jobs weren't open to underclassmen. A couple times I thought I got the job only to get a call telling me they'd decided to give it to someone else.

One rainy day, I interviewed at the student health department. It didn't look good. I walked slowly back to my dorm, my hair dripping wet and my heart heavy. When I got to my room, I went to the dresser, pounded my hands on its top and looked in the mirror at my pathetic reflection. "God," I screamed to the empty room, "I need a new job. I just can't do this anymore." I burst into tears.

The phone rang. Really!

The university's department of occupational safety and health, responsible for tracking every chemical on the Ohio State campus, from bathroom cleaners, to paint, to chemistry lab supplies, to the hospital supplies. The staff responded to chemical spills of minor and major proportions and did a whole lot more.

They were computerizing. This is in the old days, when PCs had no memory and everything was stored on floppy disks. You know, when word processors consumed whole rooms. The student position would assist with word processing and enter all the chemical forms, many full-size cabinets full, into the new computer.

You might guess, I got the job! :)

And I loved it. I worked there for more than three years. The staff loved me like family. When the dorms closed for the weekend, they took me in. The boss let me use the word processor to type dissertations off the clock so I could earn extra money. One of them had graduated from Michigan. Somehow, he got U of M stickers into my diploma at graduation (OSU actually gives students their real diploma at the ceremony - not a blank piece of paper). Hilarious!

To remind me of God's provision in my time of need, I am placing a dollar bill in my Memorial Box. When I was desperate, God gave me more than a job. He gave me a family, a support system to help me navigate through college. When I finally got to the end of me, He stepped in and gave me more than I could have hoped or imagined.

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it last week, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).