It’s February of ‘02, a few months shy of my 31st birthday. The rain is pouring down as is typical of winter evenings in Portland, Oregon. I’ve just returned home from my part time job as a reporter for the county station. The pay is lousy and I’m frustrated. It’s been a difficult day riddled with family drama and workplace irritations and I’m all out of patience. Actually, I guess you could say I never really had any. Patience (like my faith) is a new virtue God is showing me and I’m trying to learn how to acquire some of it. I’ve seen it on others and it looks pretty good on them.

I fall down on my bed and begin wailing and sobbing, the perfect prelude to a really good temper tantrum. I rock back and forth wiping the tears from my face now contorted with grief and anger and begin yelling at God. Something my mother once told me was OK to do since God’s used to it. I’m as certain today as I was then that truer words have not been spoken.

In a rare moment of complete honesty and abandonment; angry, hoarse and raw, I begin telling God everything He already knows!

I remind Him that I have a college degree and I should not be working for such lousy pay. I’m adamant that He knows how hard I worked to earn my degree (which took 5 years since I partied most nights). I firmly let Him know that I’ve had a job and never been without one since I was fourteen years old working as a birthday party hostess for McDonald-land.

I conclude our one sided ‘discussion’ (something my Mom always told me her and Dad were having at 100 decibels) by simply stating, only loud enough for the neighbors to hear: “I DESERVE BETTER!!”

The next day I miraculously receive two job offers out of the blue. One was from the Fish radio station in Sacramento where I’ve worked now for almost 13 years.

At the time of that reckless prayer I was an angry broken mess with shattered self-esteem. I had no idea where my pain was coming from or why thanks to the numbing effect of my addiction.

I believe God honored my prayer that day not necessarily because I deserved better at the time, but because I was willing to believe I could be better. 13 years later and 9 years sober I now see that God believed it long before I did.