Good morning…
After our recent post, one dear friend responded, “I think it took retirement for me to Pause. Breathe and Expand!” I thought to myself, “Choosing to retire is so different than hearing the harsh words, ‘You’re fired.'”
I think of all the hard workers who have lost their jobs this month, their work-lives reduced to a single brown box. It reminds me of an old song my husband and I met early in our married life. Singer/songwriter Ben Folds crafted these lyrics to Fred Jones Part 2 with the following story in mind.
“The editor of Ben’s hometown paper, a local celebrity and hero, was simply fired one day and that was that,” wrote a reporter. “Often when an employee is fired, security or HR stand by to ensure nothing is stolen or destroyed in retaliation. In this case it’s a compound indignity, not only is he fired, but the people he’s worked for all these years don’t know him well enough to know he’s not going to cause any problems. He just went and put all his things in the copier paper boxes and sat there in the dark – no anger, no rage.”
Here are the sad lyrics.
******
Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There’s an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
He’s cleared all his things, and he’s put them in boxes
Things that remind him: “Life has been good”
Twenty-five years
He’s worked at the paper
A man’s here to take him downstairs
“And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time”
There was no party, there were no songs
Cause today’s just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don’t change anything
You get off; someone else can get on
“And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time”
Streetlight shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor, and lines on his face
He reflects on the day
Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it doesn’t look right
Yeah, and all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He’s forgotten but not yet gone
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time
******
Whether working a job, retired or fired, might we each learn within our given circumstances to Pause. Breathe. Expand.?
We are designed by our Creator to invite the Holy Spirit into the fleeting moments of our ordinary lives. Plant your seeds early in the morning and keep working in the field until dark. Who knows? Your work might pay off, and your seeds might produce (Ecclesiastes 11:6, CEV).
May God continue to bless the growth of the seeds we have planted throughout the hard work of our daily lives.
As we listen to this humbling song, might we lift a prayer for all of the vulnerable people who are abruptly unemployed?
…Sue…
