People often ask me if I am fearful or sit around and worry over my husband because of his job. He is a fire fighter, obviously, as the photo to the right indicates. Also, he is hot, as the caption to the right indicates. I digress.
I do not, though. I do not worry about The Man being a fire fighter. He was seventeen the first time he mentioned becoming one. He did other things for a while. But, when God puts a passion in your heart to be or do something, no matter how many distractions may come up, you seem to go back to it. God has miraculously made my husband a fire fighter. Twice.
When he got laid off from the Reno Fire Department, we were heart broken. We took as many tiny steps in faith as we could muster. Packed. Placed the house on the market. Made steps to be ready. Prepared our hearts for what was next.
I dreamed that I got a call from the Nampa Fire Department. The man on the phone asked if I thought My Husband could be up to Idaho in two weeks. Then our house sold, and we decided to take the first offer for fire fighter that came The Man’s way. We got many letters saying he was first on the list, second on the list, third on the list to be called. We prayed a little more and tried not to let frustration at the unknown rule.
The Man took an interim job, and the kids and I took a trip to Vegas to see friends and family before we moved further away. While I was there, I got a new tattoo and a phone call from the Nampa Fire Department asking if my husband was still interested in taking a job with them. Overwhelmed at the similarity from my dream, I asked him why he called me and not my husband. Turns out The Man accidentally typed my cell number on his resume. Funny how God works.
So, no. I am not fearful of the position that God has so precisely paced My Husband in. I feel better when I hear from him after a fire, but I know God is the author and finisher of his faith and his desires. It’s where he is supposed to be.