This thing called life: Part 4

TK and Bubba are sleeping and as much as I wish I were too I am finishing up some work. The house is quiet, the rest of family is gone and the dogs have found a resting place on my cold feet. I long for moments like this. I have managed to drink a cup of coffee at a leisurely place without any being spilled on the carpet or my shirt, no one is barking orders or yelling at the beasts that takes place at my front door (AKA the 4 dogs.) I miss quiet moments that are all my own, they are good for my soul and my sanity. So I guess I will take advantage of this moment and continue forth with my story.

December of 2007 was a month I would gladly like to erase from the books. My family was gone and TK was working in a place that started to resemble Hell, well for us it did. TK would come home so beaten up that it would infuriate me to the point that I would start yelling, unfortunately yelling at TK. I was not rising above the situation with our church like I should have, instead I was right there with everyone who was causing the hurt, playing on their level.

Christmas Eve rolled around and after Tk played the service at church we went to dinner at a favorite local restaurant of ours, it was good but depressing for me. I do not even remember Christmas day but I am sure I was a pleasure to be around. At this point Tk was playing in a funk band to make side money to support us, so New Year’s was spent in a bar while Tk counted down to 2008 on a stage, while I was among drunk people spilling beer on me. He blew me a kiss at midnight and I prayed for the night to end quickly. Soon after all the Holiday hustle was over TK was FIRED abruptly! I mean yes we in hind sight we knew it was coming, we just had hoped it would have happened in a different way. They treated him like a criminal throughout the exiting process. We had done everything that was asked of us and felt like puppets on a tangled string with a master who left us for the dogs. We asked questions, but received no answer, we begged for helped and we were actual laughed at by certain to remain unnamed staff members. All we had left to do was pray for a way out. Part of me was relieved that TK would be out of the horrible situation, while the other part of me went straight to panic mode. I remember yelling in my car to God asking for help in one breath and cursing his name and that church in the next. WE HAD GIVEN THEM EVERYTHING THEY WANTED, and they put us out like tomorrow’s trash. My husband was broken and felt betrayed. He over the course of his time with church became close friends with the Pastor, I babysat their kids, we had dinner together, and than one day they were done with us and wanted us out as quickly as possible. We honestly, I am not just saying this, we honestly couldn’t figure out what happened. So here we are again, jobless and this time unemployment was not an option. TK had to beg basically to the point of threaten, to get some kind of severance, and even that was a joke. Scramble mode began quickly in my house and TK’s only option was to look for work outside of Michigan. I firmly put my foot down and shook my head NO, but in my heart I knew it might be our only answer. Again my mind immediately went to moving to Florida to be with my family, but as I would soon find out TK had other plans.

The coward, excuse me, I mean Pastor sent two members of the leadership team over to our home to collect belongings of the church’s (TK ran a lot of the day to day functions out of our home since the church did not have an office.) The guys were told lies I am sure of what happened and TK was trying to save face giving his side of the story. The poor men were bombarded with this task that the Pastor should have been man enough to do himself. I remember begging TK to stop yelling as I cried uncontrollably. I could see the look of pity in the faces of these men and I wanted them out of my home. I didn’t want their pity, I wanted revenge, but I knew it wasn’t right, so I kept my mouth shut for the most part. I still wish I could take back an unnecessary comment of mine, and I hope by now this person has forgiven me for being a rude mess that night.
After all things church were cleared from our home and TK’s belongings were collected from the church building, we sat on opposite ends of the couch with the fear of now what? I called to inform my parent’s of the latest news and they promised to help us. But how? They were struggling just as much as we were. I felt hopeless, completely and utterly hopeless. How had we as a family gotten to this point? I prayed for God to come and swoop us up in his arms, to move me, to show me a sign it would be OK. I also did a whole lot of yelling at God while I begged him to show this church what they were doing to people. I thought of getting even, like standing out in the parking lot offering our story for all who wanted to hear, I wanted to send emails, I thought about keying the Pastor’s car (real mature stuff I know), and the list goes on. I was hurt, and what made it worse was so was my husband AND YOU DON’T MESS with my family. So I did what any over protective woman would do, I prayed his (the Pastor’s) day would come and he would feel ever ounce of emotion we did.