There’s a square-looking, mid-40s, white man who comes to the prayer chapel every morning. His hair is always and perfectly cropped in place and he dresses like a doctor or insurance salesman. When he enters the prayer chapel, he arranges the empty chairs and circles the central fountain a few times before leaving through the side door. And if I let my imagine run, I assume he’s in professional services or healthcare and he carefully plans his life. He’s the type of dad that “makes good time,” invests in 529(b) plans, and reads the owner’s manual when he buys a new gadget.

I also assumed he smelled like soap*.

Today, the well-groomed man came over to me in the prayer chapel and gave me a bit of encouragement. He introduced himself as Michael, spoke in a whisper, and said what he had to say. He told me the Lord was proud of the risks I take and my ability to live outside the box. Then I thanked him and he returned to his march around the fountain. (I appreciate the fact that he didn’t linger after.)

A few hours later I met my friend Josh for tacos. He is also a successful, well-groomed early 40s type. We chit-chatted for a bit and then caught up on current events. For me, that includes a significant lull in marketing work and an uptick in food delivery shifts. I admitted I was embarrassed by my situation and a few unexpected tears leaked out of my eyes as I questioned my approach to life and employment status. Then, and for as second time today, I was encouraged by the words of my friend. “You’re not like everyone else- the way you live and see life. And you try to live according to what you preach. Don’t give up on that.” It’s almost like the Lord is trying to tell me something.

We are all born a certain way, with certain traits and desires and abilities. The best any of us can do is recognize our way and figure out how to make it work while we can. On days like today and over the last few weeks, I’ve questioned myself and what I want and if I’ll ever make it. It’s times like this that make me want a “real job” because a “real job” looks safe and reliable. (And women crave both of those things. Let’s be real.)

The truth is I’m going through a rough patch and the last thing I should do is depart from the plan, which now seems to include food delivery. A normal job will only postpone the progress I’ve made. It’s a humbling moment.

*Yes. Michael smelled like soap- Dial or Dove or some such bar soap.