Tag Archives: questions

“If You Could Pick Your Dream Career…”

In my last post, I gave you an update regarding my shoulder surgery and a head’s up about a job interview. Let me tell you a little about the interview.

The Interview

First of all, I am not at liberty to tell you where I had a job interview, at least I’d rather not at this point. I feel it’s best to keep a possible future employer’s name out of the conversation and off the internet; I’m not sure how they’d appreciate it, and I’d hate to jeopardize anything.

Let me just say that I met with several people during my interview, each one representing a different department in the company, including a person from their HR department. The atmosphere was intended to be low-pressure and rather casual, but it did start off a little stressful, at least for me. It was the first job interview I’d been on in a long time and the first time with an employer of this size, so it took a few moments to find my stride.

But after a few moments, not long after introductions and the first question or two, I was able to settle into some confident conversation. Since I was not there to be quizzed on my knowledge of their company or industry, only to be questioned about myself and my abilities, I did my best to present the best version of me I could. If I was the product being sold, I think I sold myself well.

The Question

Now, there was this one question they asked that really brought out some passion. The Human Resources lady asked, “If you could pick your dream career, no limitations or restrictions, what would it be?”

I didn’t have an immediate answer. I was at a loss for words.

Even now I can’t think of anything akin to a “dream job,” at least not one like what you might think. I mean, to be honest, I am doing what I want to do – I’m a pastor! All things considered, there’s nothing else I really dream about doing.

You’re probably wondering if I’m already a pastor, then why would I look for something additional to do? A simple answer is that I want to provide for my family, and sometimes – if not most of the time – little churches don’t have the means to do that.

Is my “dream job” a big church? No, not at all. I’m really happy to be where I am.

So, what was my answer?

“I want to make a difference.” When I die, I want to be missed. I want to know I’ve made an impact on people’s lives. And should it be possible to make a lot of money doing that, I could live with it, sure.

Then I narrowed it down a bit. I said, “I love to teach…I love to see the look on someone’s face when they get it.”  I love to take something complicated and make it simple. My perfect job is one where I can create passion in others so they can do the best they can at what they do.

A gentleman then asked if I thought I could stand before a group of 200 drivers…from all walks of life, with varying degrees of desire and commitment…and convince them of the importance of understanding “driver fatigue.”

“Absolutely,” I replied with a grin. Then I explained how.

Keep Praying (and giving)

I do appreciate the well-wishes and prayers so many of you have offered. Should I be hired for the position being considered, believe me, life would be a little more comfortable and less stressful; it would be a game changer, for sure.

I’ve yet to receive any feedback from the interview, but when I do I will certainly let you all know. Just keep praying God’s will be done.

Remember, because of my surgery, it’s now been over a month that I’ve been out of work. If you would like to help alleviate the financial burden we are under, please consider going to the sidebar and clicking the Paypal donation button.

Every little bit helps.

In the meantime, I’ll just continue being the one-armed pastor of a little church where God is doing great things! 🙂

P.S. At one point I did say, “Being the President would be a good gig, but it only lasts eight years, so…” 😉

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Filed under current events, ministry, Struggles and Trials

More I Don’t Understand

Not a Repeat

Just a week or so ago I published a post listing a few things “I Don’t Know.” That post was actually a re-hashed re-post of an older post. In other words, you read a slightly-modified re-run.

How many more times will I use hyphenated words? I don’t know.

How many more times will I re-post old posts? More than you will notice, I hope.

This post, however, is brand new for 2017. No funny taste, and no freezer burn.

I Don’t Understand

Tonight I was reading some posts from a new blog I just discovered, RebeccaLemke.com. When I scrolled down to where I could leave  comment, there was a list of places where the blog post had been shared, among them the likes of Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest. That led me to make a statement to my wife as she sat across from me, still doing taxes late at night, “I just don’t understand Pinterest.” She replied, “It can be addictive.”

Well, here are some other things I don’t understand…

  • How people can look at the same evidence, yet come to different conclusions
  • How anyone who loves unconditionally can “fall” out of love
  • Why good things happen to bad people
  • How anyone could hate Jesus
  • How Jesus could love someone like me
  • Why anyone would turn down God’s grace and opt for works

But even though I may not understand some things, I’m glad they are true…especially God’s love for this broken, wounded, scarred sinner.

“Like a broken vessel lying scattered on the sand,

Each piece a sad example of a life destroyed by sin.

That’s when Jesus found me, and after all that I’d been through

Paid it all to buy what was thrown away.

It’s amazing, but it’s true.

Don’t ask me why He loved me so. I’ll never understand.

He picked me up and held me close with a gentle nail-scarred hand.

He suffered what was meant for me, and after all I put Him through,

Told His Father I was worth the nails!

It’s amazing! But it’s true!”

 – Anthony C. Baker

I may not understand, but I’ll trust the One who does.

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind and said: … “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. – Job 38:1, 4 ESV

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Filed under Faith, wisdom

Don’t Call Me a Hallomeany

The following was originally published in October of 2012.

Not a Hallomeany

I am not a big Halloween guy. I don’t get in to the dressing up, and all that. For that matter, I don’t really celebrate the holiday.

However, I am not a total Hallomeany. I am not the Halloween version of Scrooge. For example, when a little girl asked what I thought of her costume, I didn’t say, “You look more like a prostitot than a princess.” I said, “You look very nice!”

When the little boys come around dressed like monsters, I always shiver like I am scared. When they dress like superheroes, I ask if they can fly. And when they look like a cat, dog, or freakazoid satanic mutt from the pits of hell, I say, “Wow! Do you have fleas, too?”

Wiggin’ Out

So, even though I don’t really celebrate Halloween, I try to keep the kids on the bus from thinking I am a “legalist.” What do I do? I wear a wig. This time I wore an Afro.

One little girl told me she was Little Red Riding Hood. I told her I was Big Black Afro Hood.

But the funny thing about all of this is the reaction of the elementary kids. It really made me wonder what bus they have been riding the last three months.

The Kids: (at least 1,000 times) “Mr. Baker, is that your real hair?”

Me: “Yes. It is. I was bald yesterday, but I put fertilizer on my head and my hair grew overnight.”

The Kids: “No it’s not…I bet it is a wig…that’s not your hair…let me touch it…I bet it’s a wig.”

Me:  “Of course it’s my real hair.”

The Kids:  “Is that really your real hair? You’re wearing a wig…I just know it.”

Me: (I got upset with some children who wouldn’t stay in their seats, so I got serious and took off the wig.)

A Little Girl (that has ridden the bus for 3 months): “Aaaahhhh (gasping, then giggling as she whispers to another child), Mr. Baker’s BALD!

Me:  “You THINK?! Where have you been? Did you not see me yesterday? Are you blind?”

You’ve Known Me How Long?

After telling the above story a few times, it seemed God wanted to tell me something.

I kept thinking of a conversation Jesus has with Phillip in John 14:8-9. Phillip asked, “Show us the Father.” That’s when Jesus replied in the same way I did to the little girl, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me?”

That got me to wondering. How long have I known Jesus? And how many times do I act like I haven’t even been paying attention to His presence? How many times have I been surprised by an answered prayer? How many times have I doubted, only to find Him faithful?

“You’ve known Me how long?” Long enough to know better.

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Filed under Christian Maturity, God, Humor, Life Lessons

The Better Question

When looking for answers to our problems, many times we ask the question, “What would Jesus do?”

A better question might be, “What did Jesus do?”

“But we preach Christ crucified…” – 1 Corinthians 1:23

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Filed under Christianity, current events, Theology

How Am I Doing?

The Question

It came from Africa.

No, it wasn’t an animal trying to eat me, or a disease for which no one has a cure (which is more scary). It was a question, one asked by a Facebook friend in Uganda.

Pastor Ndahayo Shine asked: “How are you?”

imageHow am I? How does an American answer that question? I mean, seriously? What do I have to complain about?

Honestly, at the very moment Pastor Shine’s question popped up on Facebook Messenger I was eating a warmed-up piece of apple pie (as American as it gets).

Pie, I tell you!

I’m eating pie, and I get a question regarding how I’m doing from a man in Uganda. Africa! The place where famines kill more people than the NRA is blamed for!

So, I replied with the following answer:

“I am alive, not hungry, and not hurting. I have a roof over my head, a car in the driveway, and children who love me. My wife is faithful, the police are not after me, and the dog hasn’t chewed anything important in a long, long time. I guess you could say I’m doing better than I deserve.”

Am I Blessed?

So many times we answer questions like “How are you doing?” with things like, “I’m fine,” or “I’m blessed.” However, to be honest – which I try to be most of the time – I’d rather admit to being “fine” than “blessed.”

Why is that? 

Saying that I’m blessed has a sneaky way of implying that those in other places – like Africa – are NOT blessed, at least not as much as me. I mean, what does it say about Christianity and the character of God when those who are “abundantly blessed” are the ones who rarely feel the need to trust God for their next meal? What I own or what’s parked in my driveway is not a mark of spirituality, nor should it insinuate I’ve live a life more worthy of blessing than my brothers and sisters living in poverty.

If I am blessed at all, it’s not because of anything I’ve done or deserve; I am simply the recipient of God’s grace. I have been allowed according to God’s sovereignty to live in a country where leftover pie in a running refrigerator is commonplace.

Jesus made it pretty clear who the “blessed” really are. They are the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers (Matthew 5:3-9). And if that’s not enough, “…Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord…” (Revelation 14:13).

What I Don’t Deserve

While saying “fine,” I’d bet the temptation to answer the question “How are you doing?” with complaints is almost overwhelming for most. Oh, admit it – you say you’re “fine” because you don’t think the person asking is really that interested in hearing your list of ailments, worries, and irritations.

You probably answer with “fine” because you don’t want to sound like a cry baby or a hypochondriac, right? Because, admit it, you feel you deserve better than what you have; you don’t really feel “blessed,” do you?

Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t deserve anything but hell. Yet, for some reason God has allowed me to be the recipient of many good things which I don’t deserve, even if I have worked for a lot of it.

I don’t deserve a faithful wife, loving children, and a devoted dog. I don’t deserve to be a pastor, have a regular job, or to be respected in my community.

I don’t deserve electric appliances that make life easier, or even the split-level brick home in which I live. I don’t deserve the freedom to come and go as I please, not having to rely on public transportation or worry about being stopped by thugs demanding to search my car.

How am I doing? What can I say? I just ate pie…because it was there…and I wasn’t even hungry! If I’m blessed, it’s above and beyond what I need.

God is good, but His grace is Amazing! 

 

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Filed under America, Christian Living, Life Lessons, Thanksgiving

Not Paying Attention

Not a Hallomeany

I am not a big Halloween guy. I don’t get in to the dressing up, and all that. For that matter, I don’t really celebrate the holiday.

However, I am not a total Hallomeany. I am not the Halloween version of Scrooge. For example, when a little girl asked what I thought of her costume, I didn’t say, “You look more like a prostitot than a princess.” I said, “You look very nice!”

When the little boys come around dressed like monsters, I always shiver like I am scared. When they dress like superheroes, I ask if they can fly. And when they look like a cat, dog, or freakazoid satanic mutt from the pits of hell, I say, “Wow! Do you have fleas, too?”

Wiggin’ Out

So, even though I don’t really celebrate Halloween, I try to keep the kids on the bus from thinking I am a “legalist.” What do I do? I wear a wig. This time I wore an Afro.

One little girl told me she was Little Red Riding Hood. I told her I was Big Black Afro Hood.

But the funny thing about all of this is the reaction of the elementary kids. It really made me wonder what bus they have been riding the last three months.

The Kids: (at least 1,000 times) “Mr. Baker, is that your real hair?”

Me: “Yes. It is. I was bald yesterday, but I put fertilizer on my head and my hair grew overnight.”

The Kids: “No it’s not…I bet it is a wig…that’s not your hair…let me touch it…I bet it’s a wig.”

Me:  “Of course it’s my real hair.”

The Kids:  “Is that really your real hair? You’re wearing a wig…I just know it.”

Me: (I got upset with some children who wouldn’t stay in their seats, so I got serious and took off the wig.)

A Little Girl (that has ridden the bus for 3 months): “Aaaahhhh (gasping, then giggling as she whispers to another child), Mr. Baker’s BALD!

Me:  “You THINK?! Where have you been? Did you not see me yesterday? Are you blind?”

You’ve Known Me How Long?

After telling the above story a few times, it seemed God wanted to tell me something.

I kept thinking of a conversation Jesus has with Phillip in John 14:8-9. Phillip asked, “Show us the Father.” That’s when Jesus replied in the same way I did to the little girl, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me?”

That got me to wondering. How long have I known Jesus? And how many times do I act like I haven’t even been paying attention to His presence? How many times have I been surprised by an answered prayer? How many times have I doubted, only to find Him faithful?

“You’ve known Me how long?” Long enough to know better.

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Filed under Christian Maturity, God, Humor, Life Lessons