WHEN ALLISON WALKED INTO HER office Monday morning, she found two construction workers putting up Sheetrock to cover over the six-inch opening between her office and Derrek’s.
“Why are you doing that?”
One of the men said, “I dunno. We were hired to close up this space,” and turned back to the work.
They finished half an hour later, and half an hour after that, Derrek poked his head into her office and said, “Can I chat with you for a moment in my office, Allison?”
“Sure.”
She stepped inside Derrek’s office and found him hunched over drawings for a set of three resort cabins along a lake in eastern Washington. He glanced up at her, then focused again on the drawings.
“How much work have you done on this account since you got here?” He tapped the drawings.
She motioned toward the wall between her office and Derrek’s. “Why did those guys fill in the opening between our offices?”
“Oh, yes, that.” He didn’t look up. “I’m sure I’ve been making too much noise and wanted to make it quieter for you.”
“You didn’t. And I liked that we could—”
“How much have you been involved in this account?” He pointed at the drawings again.
“You don’t want me to overhear you?”
“Truly, Allison, it was only done for you. I’ve been having quite a few meetings in my office lately, and I’m only looking out for you as I know you enjoy silence when you work.” He looked up and smiled. “Perhaps I should have spoken with you first. We could have saved a few pennies, but now what’s done is done, so can we focus on the subject at hand?”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then moved closer and looked at the drawings.
“I’ve done a fair amount of work with this client.”
“That’s what I thought.” He glanced up again, then tapped the client’s name at the top right corner of the drawings. “And how many times have we met with them together? Four? Five?”
“It’s been five times.”
“Excellent.” Derrek sat back and gave her his full attention. “They like you. Your work on their account has been solid.”
He grinned at her as if she should know where he was going with this.
“Thanks.”
Derrek leaned forward, his arms and palms stretched out on the drawings. “How would you like to take over the account? Be the lead on it?”
“What?”
“Be their main point of contact. Craft the proposals for new projects. Oversee the work on the account.”
“Uh, yes . . . I’d like that.”
Allison tried not to look shocked. Kalimera Resorts wasn’t a huge client, but they weren’t small either. Derrek’s suggestion that she carry the account was a huge vote of confidence in her abilities.
“And, as you might imagine, I can move a bit more salary in your direction for handling the account. Plus, it will free me up to work on some larger projects.” He started to roll up the drawings, then stopped and waited for her answer.
“That’d . . . that would be great,” Allison said.
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll have Linda set up a meeting with them, and we’ll let them know.” He finished rolling up the drawings and slipped a rubber band around them.
“Derrek?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
That evening, after all light had faded from the sky, Allison fixed herself a second cup of Earl Grey tea and headed for her den. She picked up one of her writing pens and returned to her chair, opened the journal, and began to write. The action filled her with the feeling of being in the exact spot in the universe where she was supposed to be.
Monday, June 3rd
The day today outside my body was beautiful. Inside, not so much. I’m still trying to feel my way and discover where I fit in . . . and know who I am and what role I play at the company and in life, for that matter. Easier said than done. I’m frustrated that the partnership is still not finished. It’s been more than a month already, but Derrek says there have been accounting mistakes, not from my side of things but others, and $100,000 was flushed down the toilet, so the timing isn’t right. Will it ever be?
On the positive side of things, Derrek gave me a sizable account today, but I love it and hate it at the same time. Love it because it says he believes in me and trusts me to do a good job for them. Love it because it’s going to mean extra income while I’m waiting for the partnership to be finished. Love it because it’s going to be a fun project to work on.
And I hate it because of what it does inside me. It makes me hope—no, believe—that things are going to be okay. But there’s still this part inside that thinks it’s never going to work out. And I hate it because when Derrek believes in me, I believe in me, but why does it take something or someone from outside of me to make that happen? Why can’t I believe in me all by myself?
Far too much of me wants desperately to know that Derrek likes me, respects me. It’s easy to figure out why. I need a dad to show he loves me, since Dad didn’t know how. I know my longing isn’t going to be solved by finding a doting father figure, but that doesn’t stop the longing from welling up inside me.
And then there’s the issue of closing the opening between our offices. How am I supposed to see that but as a sign of distrust?
Show me truth, Lord—please show me all the truth I need to see.
Allison slept well that night with no dreams, and when she woke, the gray of dawn had just started to creep into the early-morning sky. She showered, dressed, and ate breakfast, all the time picturing the words she’d written in the journal the night before. Finally she went to her den to see if the words had changed this time. Within seconds of opening the journal and turning to last night’s page, she saw the changes.
Monday, June 3rd
The day today outside and inside my body was beautiful. I’m discovering where I fit in and who I am and what role I play in life.
Derrek gave me a sizable account today. I love it. It’s going to be a fun project to work on.
Things are going to be okay. I believe in me. It’s going to work out.
Allison shut the journal, went to the kitchen, grabbed her cell phone, and called Richard.
“Yes?”
“Richard? It’s Allison Moore.”
“Good to hear your voice, Allison. You’re up early.”
“Sorry.”
“Not at all. I’ve been up for an hour.”
“I need to talk.” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“I’m guessing you’ve had words change on you again.”
“I have. Can you get together?”
“I can. How about a late lunch?”
“Perfect.”
They met at Suprema’s Deli, and after their meals arrived Allison told Richard about her journal entry and how it had changed.
“Tell me why you’re frustrated,” he said.
“How do you know I’m frustrated?”
Richard offered a kind smile. “It might be the scowl etched into your forehead.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” She pulled up a photo she’d taken of the journal entry that morning and waved at it. “Yes, I am frustrated. The words change and they change the meaning on paper, but I need more than that.”
“What do you need?”
“I need change in here.” Allison pointed at her chest. “It has to be more than pretending I believe in myself. More than positive thinking. It has to be real.”
“I agree.” Richard took a big bite of his pastrami sandwich and, when he finished chewing, said, “All men, all women, live in two worlds. The one beyond them, of circumstance and insinuation and friendships, of words spoken to them in jest and joy and anger and sorrow, in encouragement and cruelty. And then there is the world within. The world of words we speak to ourselves. What we know about ourselves. Truly know. In there, if we allow ourselves, we face our glories and horrors. Our moments and days and years are about the connection between those two worlds. About the gate we construct to allow the outside world in and the inside world out. And most folks allow too much of the outside world to inform their inward world.
“They look to friendships, wealth, status, politics, religion, drugs, food, and many other things to fill them, but the thirst man has will never be quenched with those things.”
“So what do I do?”
“The same thing I suggested last time we talked.” Richard leaned forward. “Be willing to climb the mountain, even though you know it will be one of the highest you’ve ever scaled. And when God shows you the whole truth, be willing to step into it, no matter the cost.”