A Job vs The Dreadlocks

November 1, 2011 | By More

It is time for Thanksgiving, and once again my life has been blessed with one of those moments that leaves me amusingly saying, “Really, God?” These truly are “blessed moments” because I love it when God works in ways I could never imagine. Even in the small stuff like dreadlocks.

I need to take you back to this past summer. Our son Dillon attends the University of Arkansas and instead of moving home for summer break he decided to stay in Fayetteville. We told him he needed to find a summer job ASAP to help pay the bills.

Not daily, but almost, I would call Dillon to find out if he had secured a job. I had been praying that God would lead Dillon to the right job. I had asked that it be a job that would help Dillon grow as a person. About two weeks into this job hunt Dillon still did not have a job and I was beginning to get a little frustrated.

I woke one morning and began the day by telling God, “Dillon REALLY needs to find a job.” I must stop here and say it could be my “telling God” part that leads to the answer I received. You see, I believe God has a great sense of humor and my attitude of “when are you going to get around to fixing this for me?” played in perfectly to Him getting ready to blast me with both barrels. Not blast me in a bad way, but blast me in a way that leaves me laughingly asking, “Really God?”

As the morning progressed, I received a phone call from Dillon. He wanted to know how much money he had in his bank account because he wanted to go golfing with some friends. I, being the dutiful mother, looked it up for him and assured him he had enough to go play golf.

After I hung up the phone it dawned on me, wait a minute, he needs to be out looking for a job not playing golf! I immediately got back on my phone in an attempt to inform him that he would not be playing golf — he would be job searching.

I called. No answer. I called again. No answer. I called a third time — no answer. By now I am very irritated. Who does this boy think he is, not answering my calls? If I could just ever get through to this child I was going to let him have it. Finally, after several more calls, he answered.

I started in: “You are not going golfing. You are going to find a job.” He immediately shoots back, “I have a job. While you were blowing up my phone calling me I was on the phone accepting

a job offer. They want me to start today at 4 p.m.” Talk about a 180 in mood. I was thrilled. Please stay with me because this is where it gets really good.

Before we go any further you need to know that we attend a Southern Baptist Church. I have been raised Southern Baptist. I love being Southern Baptist but we do have an inclination to sometimes be a little legalistic. At least I know I have at times, yet I am also known as one who hates being told what to do. This is why I think God likes to lovingly “mess” with me.

For those of you who are well acquainted with Southern Baptist, I am sure by now you have probably guessed where Dillon is working… “Mom, I got a job at a liquor store.”

Yes, my child will be working at a liquor store. Just what every Southern Baptist mother wants to say when someone asks her, “So what is Dillon doing these days?”

As soon as this conversation with Dillon ended, my conversation with God began. And it began with, “Really, God? Really?”

I was laughing as I asked. “Is this your answer to my prayer? And, oh by the way God, thanks for stomping on my pride. I can’t wait to tell my mother where her grandson will be working.”

And just so we are clear, my husband Donald and I don’t really have a problem with Dillon working at the liquor store. We just find it humorous in one of those “You gotta trust God to work in mysterious ways.”

This leads me back to the beginning of this story and to the dreadlocks. Dillon started growing his hair out at the beginning of the summer and informed us that he wanted to get dreadlocks.

Seriously, can my children just be normal once in a while? Apparently not.

We tried to talk him out of it several times, to no avail. His hair gets longer and longer, just waiting for the right length to have the dreads done.

One weekend we walk into his house and he has a crew cut! What happened to the dreads? Did mom and dad finally prevail and talk some sense into the boy? Oh, no. He went to work and checked with the management at the liquor store to make sure dreads would be acceptable. They said, “No, not really.” The next day my son Dillon had short hair!

See, I told you God works in mysterious ways! Thanks, Liquor Store Management. We have a lot to be thankful for!  

 

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