
Coping strategies when unemployment hits home.
By Greg Asimakoupoulos
How does it feel to be laid
off? If you can’t answer
that question yourself,
there’s a good chance
that someone else in
your neighborhood can.
There are a growing
number of people in the town where I live
who understand the trauma of being
unexpectedly unemployed. In light of the
dark days at Andersen, Motorola, K-Mart,
and other corporations, there are more
people mowing their lawns mid-day. Just
like me.
In the weeks leading up to the Monday
morning I was let go, I was aware of a
financial cloud that hung over the parachurch
organization where I worked. Cash flow had
been a concern. But since the economic
uncertainty triggered by September 11, the
atmosphere had become more somber. Like
scores of ministries, donations were down
and expenses were up.
As I arrived at work that day, I had no idea
what awaited me. I turned on my computer,
and began organizing my projects for the
day. Without fanfare, the boss called me into
his office. Whereas some might have taken
that as an unmistakable cue, I didn’t until I
was asked to sit, and the door was closed
behind me.
He told me that mine was one of eleven
positions being immediately eliminated.
There would be four more weeks of pay, and
a letter of recommendation, if I desired. He
thanked me for my contribution over the
past half decade and wished me good luck.
My heart began to beat double time. My
stomach knotted and I was speechless. It
wasn’t that I didn’t have things to say; I was
too angry to risk opening my mouth for fear
of what might come out. After five years
with a family-run ministry, I felt entitled to a
bit more warning.
As I cooperated with the compulsory
handshake, I managed a smile then shuffled
back to my desk and dialed my wife. I was
clueless as to how to break this unexpected
news to her so when the answering machine
picked up, I breathed a sigh of relief that I
didn’t have to admit to being a failure for a
few more minutes.
I rehearsed how best to tell her. Then I
called on my Heavenly Father for help. It
wasn’t much of a faith-filled prayer. It was
more of an honest venting of hostility and
fear. When Wendy did call back, I just told it
to her straight. After expressing some
surprise, she calmly said, “We’re on an
adventure. The Lord must have something
even better in mind for the next season of our
lives. I’m excited.” She may have been
excited, but I certainly wasn’t. Still, there was
something about her confidence that got me
through the rest of the day.
Over the next few weeks I met with some
friends and avoided others. Ashamed, I just
wanted to hide. When people attempted to put
a spiritual spin on what I was going through, I
just wanted them to clam up.
When you lose your job, you feel like Job.
It seems you’ve lost it all. The world looks
colorless and tastes like bitter gall. You seek
the Lord, but He won’t speak. You lose your
will to pray. And when your “good” friends
try to help, you wish they’d go away. Quite
insecure, you doubt your worth. You try in
vain to hope. You feel alone and afraid. It’s so
unfair to be laid off. You gave your heart and
soul. You lose sleep. Your bills add up. You
don’t know what or whom to call. You don’t
know where to aim. No business card. No
payroll check. No place to go. Without a job
in an upwardly mobile suburb like we live in,
you’re just a big “zero.”
Although I have been let go before, this
time was different. Now I am a husband and
father with tuition bills looming each month.
Talk about scary! What makes my episode
seem all the more frightening is the monster I
feel breathing down my neck. His name is
Midlife. At fifty, a guy’s supposed to be on
the top, in the prime of his life. Instead, I
worry about draining our savings account. I
worry that some churches might see me now
as too old to return to local ministry. I worry
that the experience and unique abilities I see
in the mirror won’t be detected by a future
employer. Or worse, they will no longer be
wanted.
Many I have talked to have been forced into
the Twilight Zone on more than one occasion.
Red admits to being a veteran at such
transitions. He told me I’m in good company
and that I should resist the temptation to feel
sorry for myself. Brad went for eighteen
months before he found a new job. He
encouraged me to try and let the process play
out. He was confident something would
eventually open up. Tim challenged me not to
take time off to just relax. “Looking for a new
job is a full-time job,” he said.
In a twisted sort of way, I envy these friends
who have been through this before. They
have a confidence and coping skills that I am
still trying to develop. Their example and
counsel feed my hope that there actually is
life after being laid off. I am grateful for their
advice. They provide me with a reality check.
While I am in this Twilight Zone, I’m
learning to experience God’s grace in ways I
never knew existed. I’m looking to Him for
answers and directions. I’m approaching the
Scriptures with a greater sense of urgency and
determination to hear God speak through
them. And in the process, I’m rediscovering
that my value as a human being, husband,
and father is not based on a brass nameplate
or business card.
Every day is a little different. Some days I
feel like I’ve had a faith transfusion and I’m
ready to pull up a chair and watch mountains
move. Other days I’m glued to the sofa
watching TV. Fortunately, I’ve been able to
string together some freelance writing jobs to
cover our oldest daughter’s monthly tuition.
One recent assignment required me to look
at Job’s response to his misfortune. His pain
far exceeded the transitionary trauma of
losing a job. Covered with boils and familiar
with loss, this Old Testament prophet offers a
perspective worthy of being heeded. “He
(God) knows the way that I take; when He
has tested me, I will come forth as gold” (Job
23:10). It reminded me that God is capable of
redeeming the hardships in our lives. And as
best as I can determine, God desires that this
time of my life become a crucible of sorts in
which my “mettle” is tested.
This journey into joblessness has caused me
to remember that it’s not until you lose
something you had taken for granted that you
fully appreciate how good you had it. At the
same time, you realize that what seemed so
important is not all that valuable when
compared to what can’t be replaced.
In all honesty, I’ve worked through my
anger. I still grieve over the way my employer
handled the situation and I miss the
friendships at the office that were ended as if
by death. Truthfully, there are still days when
I panic, wondering when and if I’ll find a
position that matches my skill set and sense
of call. But those days are fairly infrequent.
Deep in my heart I know I’m more than a
zero. The Lord thinks I’m a “10.” My worth
to Him does not consist in what I do, or
when. He’s gifted me and knows my skills.
He loves me as I am. And so, I’ll take my
cues from Job and trust God’s unseen plan.
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How Wives Can Help...
Reassure Him That He’s Lovable
When you’re laid off, you’re also emotionally
laid low. I’d been rejected by someone I had
valued. Fortunately, Wendy could sense my
despair. She wanted me to realize that I was
still at the top of her list. She made it clear that
her love for me was not tied to my job
security. On more than one occasion she
placed a card at my bowl of cereal at
breakfast, noting with affection my unique
gifts. On another occasion, she surprised me
with a package that contained all the fixings
for a romantic picnic.
Remind Your Husband He Still Has A Job
Just because I suddenly was denied an
occupation didn’t mean I no longer had a
vocation. God’s call on my life to be a
Christian husband and father had not been
revoked. Wendy made sure I didn’t equate
my identity with what I did when generating a
paycheck. She helped me keep my focus on
a job that no one else could do, reminding
me that in our home, my position was
irreplaceable. Wendy’s reality “check” was
just as important as the check I was no longer
getting.
Review God’s Faithfulness With Him
It’s amazing how much a job loss can result in
memory loss. I couldn’t see what the future
held, and my lack of vision was complicated
by the fact that I’d lost sight of how God had
provided during other times. As Wendy and I
went for walks, she would prompt me to
contemplate God’s blessings in the past. Yes,
we’d had more than our share. During a
rough ministry assignment a decade before,
God had opened a new door of opportunity.
When our parents faced critical health
concerns, God came through in a big way.
Hindsight was important to Wendy, so
although the current circumstances were a
blur, she challenged my need to have 20/20
eyesight.
Rediscover The Joy Of Praying Together
One of the joys of being unemployed is
having extended time at home. We were able
to enjoy breakfast on the back deck, as well
as have lengthy lunches nibbling at a
sandwich and chewing on job options
together. But the highlight of the day was for
the two of us to pray for our situation. Earlier
in our marriage we did this. I’d forgotten how
special that is. In all honesty, though, it was
Wendy who would often be the one to initiate.
She resisted my tendency to cocoon, and
helped me see how much we needed to
come before the Lord to confess our doubts
and ask for the ability to trust Him.
– Greg Asimakoupoulos
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Greg Asimakoupoulos is a pastor and
freelance writer. His most recent book, Heroic
Faith, is available through Voice of the
Martyrs. He and his wife, Wendy, have three
daughters and live in Naperville, Ill.
Also read:
JBU 2004 Conference Report
What Shall We Do With Mother?
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