Christy's 2009 Christmas letter

Dear family and friends,

Just as with a magazine I’d edit, all through the year I think about what events or feelings should go into the annual Christmas letter. (Um, by the way, this blog and emails are it. Can’t afford sending letters this year by snail mail.) This has been my annus horribilis, a horrible year. Perhaps for this letter I should have tried writing fiction for the first time ever. But instead, I’ll just skim over the negative and end up with the real joy that I’ve discovered.

Last winter, I had a severe bout of cellulitis in my left leg, requiring both outpatient treatment and hospitalization. There was a huge load of stress at work, mostly caused by the boss, so there was nothing to do in this economy but accept the treatment until he laid me off (with one-third of the other employees) in June. Their donations from publications and the website dropped precipitously when I left. We were told we’d be able to collect unemployment compensation, but because of legal issues between the employer and the state, it wasn't possible. I’ve existed on savings from the vacation I did not take in 2008, plus a savings account for emergencies (such as this one). The up-and-down hopes and appeals for compensation have torn me to bits. That’s not good when one has no health insurance. I have several wonderful friends who are losing homes, and have had deaths in their family, or had to move and start their lives over. I’ve never cried as often for what we’ve experienced as this year. Finance is not the worst of it. But it certainly ranks up there! (Or would that be down there?)

The unemployment rate in this area of southern California is 15%, and there are no jobs whatever in my profession for 100 miles around. The taxes and cost of living are outrageous here. There are jobs posted in Phoenix, my native city, and I’ve been applying for them since July 1; however, there are no “bites” on my résumé and applications, perhaps because there are hundreds of applicants, or because I’m not local. Phoenix has an unemployment rate of “only” 10%. Woo-hoo, better odds! After nearly 13 years in this area, I’ve decided to sell my home, where I’ve put down roots with the trees I’ve planted and tended, and move back to Phoenix, where my roots actually go down to the water table! Not being “underwater” on the mortgage, I’ll make a small profit if the house sells within a month or two, and it’s quite likely to do so. Moving means severing ties and saying goodbye to people, places, and experiences, but it's also "shalom" to follow what I believe is God's directive. This is a new life I'm entering.

The preceding paragraphs are an abridged/condensed/compacted version of the annus horribilis, and there’s a detailed, not-sweet story behind everything. But now on to the good stuff!

Christy’s Year in Review

1. January - Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight.

2. February - Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels... “duh”...bottles won't fit in typewriter!

3. March - Got excited...finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months...box said “2-4 years!”

4. April - Trapped on escalator for hours...power went out!

5. May - Tried to make Kool-Aid...8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets!

6. June - Tried to go water skiing...couldn't find a lake with a slope.

7. July - Lost breast stroke swimming competition...learned later, other swimmers cheated—they used their arms!

8. August - Got locked out of car in rain storm...car swamped, because top was down.

9. September - The capital of California is “C”...isn't it?

10. October - Hate M&Ms...they are so hard to peel.

11. November - Baked turkey for 4 ½ days...instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108!

12. December - Couldn't call 911... “duh”...there's no “eleven” button on the phone!

Wow, do I ever feel blonde. Luckily for me, my blonde is from a custom paste carefully applied by Gina, my stylist. When my head is covered in aluminum foil, I can block dogmatic political commentary—and see Arizona from my porch. (Maybe it’s the ammonia fumes…)



Actually, in spite of all the trouble of 2009, there were some amazing, inspiring times. The daily devotional book that I developed, edited, wrote much of, and self-published in 2005, was accepted (with kudos) by Review & Herald Publishing for hardcover in 2010, as I learned one week before my layoff. It's written non-denominationally, so all of you will enjoy it without feeling preached at. For those of you who contributed essays to the book, YAY for you, too! I wrote about 92 original essays and rewrote many others, Laura wrote about 30, and Lorelei was right behind her. Although 95% of my editing and writing were done at home on evenings and weekends, there will be no royalties, as I did it under the aegis of my former employer. Just last week, I spent 12 hours on final edits. My name will be on the cover and is on the Library of Congress card!!! That’s right. “Robinson, Christy K., 1958– .” (Blimey, if certain people had their way, there would be a closing date.) Scores of articles like the ones in the book are posted here on this blog. If you like the site, bookmark it! Later in the year, when the book is available, I'll place a link to a bookstore on this blog.



My mother’s three siblings, with whom I’d had extremely limited contact after she died in 1993, had a reunion at the Morro Bay (central California) home of Great-Uncle Russell and Mary Stone, with several other cousins. It was the most incredible blessing to meet and enjoy these people for the first time (for me) since 1980. I got to represent my mom and saw relationships reconciled. Cousin Sharron makes spaghetti the same way Mom did, with green olives. Lloyd is a game and border warden with a biography written about him. David has his church praying for me. Harriet has the most beautiful spirit, and we’ve become close with email and Facebook. Terry took us on a coastal adventure to see elephant seals, and we had the perfect day to bond. Ray wore a shirt that says, “I’m really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me” –and we did, so all is well. I scanned and digitally restored the faded photos we shared at the reunion, so we have photos from as early as 1913 on our respective computers.

There were other friendships established this year, that have been life-changing for me. Other relationships deepened as we shared our joys and troubles by phone and email. I visited Phoenix and stayed with (brother) Brian and Stacey several times and had a great time with friends at churches, parties, concerts, restaurants, and four-wheeling. Dad and Susanne live four months in Phoenix and eight in Pennsylvania, and came to California for a weekend last March. I got to see Uncle Ted and Aunt Carolyn Berkland in Phoenix just a couple months before Ted passed away. My niece Rachel spent three weeks with me in June, and we went to the beach, did some clothes and books shopping, went to a movie, and hung out at Redlands Market Night twice. She did some volunteer work (researching youth issues) for the marketing department at my employer. I attended nephew Jake’s farewell party when the well-mannered, buff 18-year-old went off to Army boot camp.

Since my June layoff, I learned that people I liked and loved very much already, but who I suspected were mildly fond of me, were true friends with loving hearts. They have supported me with daily prayer. Phone calls, emails and Facebook chats. Encouragement. Embraces. Advice and wisdom. Submitting my résumé in situ with glowing personal recommendation. Gifts of author-inscribed books. Taking me out for dinner and a movie. Making music with me. Throwing a proper English “tea.” Meeting for coffee. Helping with my home repairs. Enjoying time together. Pet-sitting while I was in Phoenix. Defending my reputation when I was falsely accused. Inviting me into your home for holidays. Making offers that were beyond my imagination. Gifts of money and groceries. And lately, anonymous moneygrams have landed in my mailbox. I cannot tell you how much you have done to heal my wounds. Thank you for not abandoning or forgetting me when I’m uncool and feeling unwanted and rejected. Whatever your religious/agnostic background, I truly believe that my God whispered to you and you heard. You acted with his heart and his arms, and I cherish your friendship and ministry.



I thank God for your caring attitude and actions. May you enjoy this Christmas season with family, good friends, good health, and a warm heart. And may that feeling carry you through next year’s ups and downs with the assurance that you are never alone—not with that divine whisper in your heart, and not with me praying blessings for you!



XXXOOO,

Christy K. Robinson

Evie (dog), Mali and Smetana (cats)

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Whatever it takes

Monday: the summit…

On Monday, a book manuscript on which I had worked long and hard (twice) was officially accepted for hardcover publication in 2010. http://christykrobinson.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-book-manuscript-is-officially.html

In 2004, I conceived the idea of a multiple-author daily devotional book, wrote author guidelines, solicited articles from about 50 authors, wrote more than 90 of the 365 articles myself, rewrote many pieces, and edited all of them. It was laid out for publication and printed at a Los Angeles vendor, formatted for the company website, and we sold several thousand of the 4-volume sets for $15 during the 2005 calendar year. All of the writing and most of the editorial work was done at home on my ice-age Mac with dial-up internet.

As an appreciation gift for helping with several other projects of mine, I sent the set to the book acquisitions editor at Review & Herald Publishing Association, who liked it so much that she and the Book Committee decided to knock someone else’s manuscript out of the six-year waiting list, and put ours in instead.

This year, the acquisitions editor, now assistant vice president in the books division, called to update me on the new editing and formatting to their specifications, and to set deadlines for submission of the manuscript and other pieces they need to publish and market the book. So, again at home on nights and weekends, I set about replacing weaker articles, finding new Bible texts and translations to fit every day’s entry, and format the manuscript to size, font, and space requirements. I finished one week before deadline and emailed it to the publisher.

The vice president’s reaction was extremely complimentary, and on June 8, she notified me of the official decision of the Book Committee to accept the manuscript for publication.

Thursday: the valley…

Meanwhile, at my workplace, people were tense, and tempers were short. Most people didn’t know why this was going on, just that everything was on edge. I loved what I did, but not some of the practices at the workplace. Behind our backs, daggers were being thrown. Accusations. Threats. Criticisms. I knew what was happening because I’d seen and heard budget discussions at committee meetings. This was the end of the second quarter of the fiscal year.

But though the workplace and its events consume much of our waking hours, we all have lives to live. Families to attend to and enjoy, chores to do, recreation and spiritual times, friendships to establish, relationships to cultivate. Heart things. Life and death things. My aunt and uncle both have cancer, and uncle Ted, a kind and gentle Lutheran minister, and deep thinker whom I loved to talk with for hours, passed away one day before his eightieth birthday.

All this and more – even wonderful, positive things – had built and built to a fever pitch in my life. My shoulders, back, and chest muscles ached, I only slept three to four hours a night, and despite the usual dieting and exercising, I rapidly gained a lot of water weight and kept it on for weeks. Cortisol, the best friend of stress, fright, and flight, is a mother bear. The health insurance benefits just aren’t enough compensation for the destruction going on inside me.

After consultation with several Christian friends, I decided to add another element to my daily devotion: a radical prayer. So on Thursday morning, I said, “Lord, to accomplish these specific things, to fulfill your promises, and advance your plan for me, do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. I accept that it could be painful for a time, maybe even excruciating. I’m already at my breaking point. But I also trust that you will heal me again as you have before, and I’ll be blessed more greatly. So just do it. Whatever it takes.”

During the morning, I had a heavy, oppressive feeling, and my body ached. My head hurt. My stomach was a hard knot. Physical symptoms I’d suffered many times over the months. At noon, the ministry officers called a staff meeting for employees. At 1:30, the explanations about budgets and realities were given, and I was convinced that I was one of the people who’d be laid off later in the day. At 5:40 pm, the CEO and my supervisor came in to my office, and I was told that I was one of the people to be let go, along with a third of the staff. The survivors get a 10 percent pay cut (erasing all gains of the last 10 years), and have to pick up the duties of the dismissed. “It’s not personal, it’s only about the budget,” I was told again and again.

Still, I’m a 50 year-old woman with no other means of support, no family members to help financially, in one of the worst economic and highest-unemployment regions of the entire country. I have a mortgage to maintain. It’s hard not to take it personally, especially when I know the rancor going on over our heads and behind our backs. Our corporate culture is not the sweetest. Two of us had been led to this ministry by God some years ago (seven for me, fourteen for him). And for several years, we’ve prayed to be led back out! But where God places you, you must stay until He moves you on. We don’t abandon our posts because of discomfort. We stick through until relieved of duty or posted elsewhere.

The walk out of the valley…

But within an hour of the exit interview, I remembered what I’d prayed in the morning. “Whatever it takes.” So, like any other Thursday evening, I took my niece, staying with me for a few weeks, to the city’s street fair and farmer’s market for a few hours. We listened to the bands, petted the Humane Society puppies, bought some pizza slices and cold drinks, and strolled through the crowds.

At home, there were 38 messages on Facebook, and my cell phone and land line rang simultaneously with friends calling to give support and love. I now have a paycheck that includes 176 hours of unused vacation I’d earned, plus severance and a two-week in-lieu-of-notice salary. My insurance will be paid through end of July. I’ve applied for several positions already. I’ve filed for unemployment checks, too. (Should get them if California doesn't go bankrupt.) And I have very carefully saved a small emergency fund over the years. This is not the end of the world, but neither is it a three-week vacation to England from which I’d return to the job I love. (Sigh… maybe I can go back to England after a year or two in the new job.)

This separation from my job is not the only answer to the radical prayer. I asked the Lord for some significant and specific changes (which I’ll not share here until they happen). This layoff is combined with a deep peace and contentment that God is leading me to a huge miracle. Epic!

I’m expanding my job search from this area of southern California to my native city of Phoenix, where I have lots of lifetime friends, and my brother’s family. Moving back “home” would not be a traumatic event!

Goodbye, cortisol. That weight gain? I’ve lost six pounds in six days. After the first night, with only three hours of sleep, I’ve slept about six or seven hours. Working out. Loving on the pets. I’m giving myself the “spa” treatment and my face already looks younger.

So I very much appreciate your prayers for my future in career, lifestyle, and relationships (not necessarily in that order). But don’t worry about my spirits or that I’ll go postal. For me, this is a God-thing. This is wonderful. The dread is gone. I’m out of the “valley of the shadow of death, and I fear no evil,” for the Lord my Shepherd is guiding me, doing whatever it takes.