Sad to say, there's just not a whole lot out there for us language people. I call my job search, "Making a Main Course out of a Side Dish." Knowing two languages fluently sure does make employer's ears perk up, but it always comes down to, "All right, you can translate...but what else do you do?
Sigh...used to be a company would hire the language guy, and hire the "other" guy, then have them work together. Not in this economy! So, alas, I am forced (pshaw, RIGHT...forced to do what I actually LIKE) to stay on as a teacher...I suppose I should say forced to take on a part-time both during the summer and the coming school year to wage war against the Man and his Bill Collectors.
Audra -- my lovely who really should be represented in jpeg here again before the blessed event! -- will be staying home to care for Esperancita (li'l Hope!) while Papi works outside the home. This is exciting and disturbing for me, for several reasons.
Excites because... I truly think God has put this child (and the extra work it will inevitably entail) in my life to teach me, truly, how to work my ass off. 'Cause, baby, I stink at that. I can work--last-minute pressure will turn me into the most productive guy you've ever seen--but it's hard for me to realize that my times are in God's hands. And that that doesn't just mean that He knows what'll happen to us and will care for us; it also means that "my" time is truly His! Oh, my Lord: teach me to offer up even my time to You, for I will need You to heal and transfigure it, so I can redeem it with my family.
Disturbes because... The options I have before me pose both a threat and potential. When a man is consumed with the thought of (primarily monetarily) providing for his family, the danger exists that he will begin to see everything as a "job"...including time spent with his family ("Great...one more demand of me; one more responsibility..."). Teachers are required to do a certain amount, but expected to do much more, and this is why teachers put in 50, 60 hour work weeks. Add ESL night classes or night high school classes or what have you, and you're looking at a man who's stretched a mile wide and an inch deep. Or so it seems to me now.
The words of Rich Mullins come back to me here: in talking (or, rather, singing) about his parents and what really matters in parenting, he says, "You talk about your miracles / You talk about your faith / My dad, he could make things grow / Out of Indiana clay / Mom could make a gourmet meal / Out of just cornbread and beans / And they worked to give faith hands and feet / And somehow gave it wings."
(Speaking of what really matters, take a look at what St. Joseph the Betrothed is known for providing for our Lord.)
St. Joseph, foster father of our Lord, pray for me as I learn to lay aside distractions and how to provide what really matters for my loved ones. Lord, have mercy. Lord have mercy. Lord. Have. Mercy.