Old Jon and the Idle Wednesday

Good morning.

 "2:10 AM", says my computer.

2:10 in the morning. And I'm awake. Me. Jon Dziurawiec. It's not right. I should've been to bed at least 3 hours ago. An old guy like me can't afford to be awake this late, right? Wrong.

I have the week off Fareway. Now, when most 24-year-olds have a week off of work, it's called a vacation. They usually do something. Take a trip, fix something around the house, drink copious amounts of alcohol. Something. But I have nothing planned...

     If you were sitting in my living room just now, you would've heard one of the loudest and most satisfying sighs in all of time. I have a week. To do nothing. I've noticed though, that since I'm not like a normal 24-year-old, that psychologically this week doesn't feel like a "vacation", but like a "break". You know, like when you were in grade school and you had "Spring Break" (my school still called it Easter Break, but whatever). I can do whatever I want, and I simply have this feeling that this will be an immature week for me. I'll probably not put pants on unless absolutely necessary. I'll probably spoil at least one meal a day with junk food. I might even watch an "R" rated movie or two (sorry, mom). I'll keep you updated on how it's all going. Onward.
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     As some of you know, I plan on pursuing a job with CRU next year. If you didn't know that and want to know more, ask me. So I'm really excited for possibly going back to the Iowa State campus, with the intention of sharing the Gospel with people. I've seen God move the last semester, and I can only see His faith staying a constant, and therefore his hand doing greater things than I saw last semester. However, I believe every coin has two sides. If I'm with CRU full time next year, working upwards of 50 hours a week on campus, what's going to happen to my old job with Fareway? Well, I can tell you. I won't have it. If God's allowed me to be hired with CRU, the moment I get my first check, I'm out of Fareway like a bullet. I'm not here to say I don't love my job, but I just have so many things that I can't wait to do that Fareway won't let me.

     As I'm hopefully on my way out of Fareway, I think I'll share a little story. It may be my all-time favorite story from my time at Fareway, as it epitomizes not only the last 7 1/2 years I've spent in the grocery business, but speaks to a big part of my testimony as well. Here it goes.

     Last summer was not the greatest of times for me. A good chunk of my friends were getting married. I was invited to six weddings, and was in three. I didn't like that, because I was alone. And when you're alone and no one else is, then you're really alone. I had issues in my life academically, spiritually, emotionally, and relationally and I was a wreck really wherever you looked. My one real escape from it all was Fareway. I'd work 38 hours a week in the summer, and really just detach from life with whatever time I had left. However, a string of unfortunate events caused me to be consistently late at Fareway. On July 21, 2012, the day before my 7 year anniversary with Fareway, I was an hour and 20 minutes late for my shift. I walked in and my manager looked at me and said, "Do you have an excuse?"

     "No", I replied, "my alarm just didn't go off, and I overslept." I worked out the rest of my shift, and as I was leaving, my manager pulled me aside and has a heart to heart with me. He was concerned with my consistent tardiness (a trait that I was never known for) and asked if I was having any problems. There were two things that he asked about. He asked if I had been drinking a lot. I said no. He asked me if women were a problem in my life. I said no. He guided me up to the office and there on the desk sat the thing that I had so dreaded and lived in fear of the last 6 years and 364 days at Fareway. A pink slip. I had to sign a little slip that said I was being noted as struggling with being to work on time. As I was walking down those creaky wooden stairs, my manager looks and me and says

"I just want the old Jon back."

 

     I really was crushed. My entire identity that summer had been destroyed. The "old Jon"? Had I strayed so far from the model employee that I was? From the shining glimmer in the Fareway shield of quality that I would claim to be? Had I really changed? In my wreckage, I turned to God. I asked him over and over to make me a better employee. To bring back the old Jon and restore my manager's faith in me.

 

     I realized, right then and there, how wrong I had it.

 

     If I had gone back a year from that very date, do you know where I would've found myself? In a pit of alcohol abuse, self loathing, sexual immorality, and a hatred of the God whom I'd claimed faith in since I was four. My goal was to kill myself before the summer's end. But by God's divine Grace and providence, I somehow survived that summer. God took me out the filth I was basking in and had thrust me in to the plans he had for me. Plans for redemption. God brought me out of 2011 a much different man than I had been when it started, and somewhere in those 365 days, the old Jon was torn asunder by the depth and gravity of the Cross of Christ. And now, here I was, smack dab in the middle of 2012, worried about a pink slip? I was lucky to even be alive. If God hadn't redeemed me, people, I'd have been dead before 2012 was wrung in. And yet, I was allowing my identity to be defined by a little man behind a desk, and pink sheet of paper. He's since reminded me of just who I am, and that it's the world and all the enemies of Christ that would beckon me "Come on, I just want the old Jon back. Be him again."

   

     The old Jon is dead. Dead he will stay.

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     The reason I told you that story was not simply because I'm hopefully leaving Fareway soon. It's because today I've realized just how far I've come. See, when I say that I was going to kill myself, I meant it. I was literally saved by the hand of God, and with whatever life I have left, it doesn't belong to me, but to he who ransomed me. There's a lot to my story that I'm going to fill you in on in my next blog. A story that the old Jon never could've had. Stay tuned.

 

"3:20 AM", my computer says now. Grandpa needs his sleep. Goodnight, reader.

 

P.S. I love you. I'm not entirely sure if anyone had said that to you today or not, but you deserve it. You deserve it.