I have been laboriously looking for a job since early July. I have applied for somewhere between 15 and 20 “opportunities” for which I should have no problem qualifying. Despite all this, I have heard *nothing* back from anyone. So, apparently it has weighed heavy on my mind, and I had a ridiculous dream about it last night! Thus begins the dream:

I got a call from one of the nicest places for which I had applied. However, in the dream the place was much nicer. The kicker is this. In order for me to have an interview I have to go immediately. So I’m hustling to get there within the next 5-10 minutes, and I also have Chloë (daughter) with me, not to mention I am not dressed appropriately for a job interview, either. But I have no choice. So I hope for the best.

I arrive at the place and Chloë and I are amidst several other people in a lounge, who are also waiting for a job interview. As it turns out, my interview is not immediately, and for the time I waited I could have changed clothes, printed out my resume, and dropped Chloë off with my parents. But no, I “had to [be] there RIGHT NOW.” So I wait.

As Chloë and I await my golden opportunity, I get another call from an equally as important job opportunity! And get this, they’re conveniently located in the same building! However, I have just been paged to come to the welcome desk, so as to begin my interview with the first company. So I look at Chloë, and in the dream she’s only 3 years old but incredibly intelligent, and say, “Chloë, I have to go do this interview, so I need you to take care of the one from the other company, okay?” To which she replies, “Sure, Daddy.”

Okay, now I’m off to the interview, but there’s a great chasm between me and where I’m interviewing. I approach an elevator, get in, and soar to the top most floor of the building. As I step out of the elevator I see some kind of electronic contraption at which I need to swipe an “Interview Receipt,” to show that I’m there to interview. After swiping that, I’m directed to an office area, at which there is a receptionist and desk.

The receptionist says, “Sir, let me see your resume.” But I have no resume, because I had to show up here immediately! So I tell her, “Ma’am, I was called here directly from being out, so I don’t have my resume with me, nor am I appropriately dressed for a job interview. However, I hated to see such an opportunity be squandered, so I’m taking my chances. If you’ll let me check my email on your PC, then I can download my resume and print it out.” She looks me up and down and says, “You can print out your resume, and your clothes are just fine.”

After printing out my resume, the receptionist looks at it with a “tsk tsk” look, and says, “Well, this is not going to do. You need to [insert blah blah blah here],” and she begins to “correct” my resume with a sharpie marker. Right before I am about to lose my cool with the receptionist, some former church members of mine show up and say (really, only one of them said it, but it was a collective spirit response ), “Hey Josh! We’re so glad you could make it. We saw your resume amongst the others and thought you would make an invaluable asset to our company, so we pulled it and put it at the top. Now come with us to speak to the boss man.”

In the brief walk between the office and this large open area where a crowd of people is, waiting in line, I notice that not only am I dressed inappropriately for an interview, my footwear does not match with its counterpart! One one foot I have an old ratty flip-flop on, and on the other I’m wearing a sports-sandal of sorts. Ugh! I would liken this crowd to what it looks like before you enter the gates at an airport. Everybody’s standing in line, but there’s no distinct line because 3 or 4 people may be standing side by side with one another, instead of single file.

Anyway, my former fellow church members walk me right past this crowd. I am a bit stressed, poorly dressed, disheveled, my shoes don’t match, and I’m carrying a resume that is partly typed up and professional looking, but partly “sharpied.” But for some reason, in this dream, I am feeling confident. I’m thinking, “This is it. This is where I’ll be working.” A sense of calm and peace comes over me, and then …

I see the boss. I hear him busily talking to a group of 3 people, advisors I suppose, who are huddling around him and loudly whispering in his ears. He then bellows out, with a deep British accent, “What is this garbage!?? This is unacceptable. Tell them to leave!” And then he looks up at me, and asks for my resume. I sheepishly comply, handing it over to him. He looks at it, then turns it around to show me the sharpie, and he says, “Mr. Hicks, why is this partly typed, and partly slop!?” And when I tried to respond, he has already looked me up and down, and seen my ridiculous apparel. He looks at my former fellow church members and says, “Take him out. No job.” He then looks at me and in a haughty British accented way says, “Mr. Hicks, your look is entirely unprofessional, and that you would even darken the doors of my company is a great insult to me.”

So, there ya have it. What a great dream!

First, a story (my emphasis added):

From here.

Finley Crampton really shouldn’t be here. Although his parents would have loved another child, they knew their baby could inherit a life-threatening kidney condition – and they couldn’t take the risk.

After all, their first son had died of the condition and the second was born with serious kidney damage.

So when Finley’s mother, Jodie Percival, became pregnant while on the Pill, she and her fiance Billy Crampton, 35, made the agonising decision to abort this child.

‘Deciding to terminate at eight weeks was just utterly horrible but I couldn’t cope with the anguish of losing another baby,’ said Miss Percival, 25.

However, Finley had other ideas. And some time after the operation, Miss Percival felt a fluttering in her stomach.

Eventually her doctor sent her for a scan – and she discovered she was 19 weeks pregnant.

The child had survived the abortion and thrived in the womb. ‘I couldn’t believe it,’ said Miss Percival. ‘This was the baby I thought I’d terminated.

‘At first I was angry that this was happening to us, that the procedure had failed.

‘I wrote to the hospital, I couldn’t believe that they had let me down like this. They wrote back and apologised and said it was very rare.’

But a week later, another scan confirmed that this baby had kidney problems too, like the couple’s previous children.

Miss Percival carries a gene which triggers multicystic dysplastic kidney – which causes cysts to grow on the kidneys of an unborn baby.

Her first baby, Thane, had lived for only 20 minutes after she was forced to deliver him prematurely.

Her second son, Lewis, now 20 months, was born with a similar condition. He survives on one kidney.

However, doctors told the couple from Sutton-in-Ashfield, Nottinghamshire, that this child was likely to survive, so they decided he deserved a chance.

And in November, Finley was born three weeks premature, at 6lb 3oz.

He had minor kidney damage but is expected to lead a normal life.

‘I knew if that operation hadn’t failed he wouldn’t have been there,’ said Miss Percival, a hairdresser.

‘I just couldn’t believe that this child had got through it all and looked so perfect.

‘He may need an operation but as only one of his kidneys is affected he can survive.

‘I still struggle to believe just what he has fought through. Now he’s here I wouldn’t change it for the world.’

Wow. I rejoice, yet I seethe with righteous anger. So these parents wanted another child, but because there was a *possibility* that he would have kidney issues and *possibly* die later, they decided to go ahead and *matter-of-factly* murder the baby. Okay, let me try to  understand this. Rather than risking a passive loss of a child due to health issues, they wanted to actively take his life? And because they had a previous child lost to such issues, that somehow justifies murder?

The article says it was an “agonising” decision for the parents. Somehow, I don’t think so. Let’s consider the words of this mother.

“Deciding to terminate at eight weeks was just utterly horrible but I couldn’t cope with the anguish of losing another baby”

Look who the emphasis is on, according to this mom. Let’s change some words around that basically show the statement for what it is. “Deciding to murder my baby at eight weeks so that it wouldn’t have to deal with only a *possible* kidney issue and die was just utterly horrible, but not so horrible as ME, MYSELF, and I having to cope with the anguish of losing another baby.”

HELLO!??!? Murdering a child in the womb IS “losing another baby!!!!” Furthermore, she doesn’t care about the baby, because as far as she is concerned (along with the spineless daddy) is herself and her emotional stability. It’s funny that the article says, “the parents would have loved another child …” I’m not following. First, they were on “the pill.” Second, they didn’t love the child that God gave them; instead, they sought to end its life.

We’re not God, folks. We’re not the ones who decide when a life is “worth it” or not. That’s God’s job, and should be His doing. He gives, he takes away, blessed be His holy Name. When the state executes capital punishment, it should be because God has called for it, and it fits the crime. So even then, we’re not the ultimate deciders. We’re not to determine when it’s best for a Baby to be born or not. This is disgusting.

Can you imagine how this baby will feel when she grows up and catches wind of all this? Furthermore, the mom got angry when learning that the murder didn’t finalize. Awww … bless her heart (NOT!). So she writes a letter to the hospital complaining. “You know, I payed you to get rid of this problem, and now look what has happened.” The hospital even apologized for not successfully murdering the baby!

May God have mercy on the Church for standing idly by as things such as these pervade every facet of life. May God grant repentance to this mother and father and hospital who are so calloused to reality. May God have mercy on us all.

Disclaimer: This song is purely satire and not, in any way, a Biblical representation of the God Who rules and reigns. Rather, any reference to “deity” or “god” of any sort is not to be understood as being the Triune God of Scripture.