I opened my inbox and as usual there were about ten new messages. I scanned them quickly, my heart leaping when I saw the one with the title, Re: Your Job Application. I clicked it several times, but that did not seem to speed up the download speed on our very slow dial up connection. Finally it opened and my eyes skimmed over the words. I let out a long sigh when I refocused on the phrase, ‘unfortunately your application was unsuccessful. . . ‘
Not again! This scene had repeated itself five times within one month and I was tired of it, either that or the employer just neglected to reply to you. It seemed that work in our small town was hard to come by; too many people needing too few jobs. Even the application I had sent into the fast food outlet that had advertised vacancies had failed.
It was with this frustration that I set off walking down the main street, in my high heels, flowing black skirt and crisp white shirt. Perhaps if I looked the part, I could find a waitress job at one of the two Chinese Restaurants in our town. Flicking aside the whispered, ‘Don’t do it,’ with the thought that it was just me, I pushed open the door to first restaurant. No vacancies. I walked further along the block and into the second stop.
The gaze of gilded dragons on totem poles met mine as I strode towards the front counter where two laughing girls waited for customers. Yes, they always needed new girls; the manager would chat to her husband and call back. Impatiently I waited a few days and then dropped back in. Did I have any bar experience? No, but surely I could get my certificate and would be fine.
A few days later my mobile shrilled; it was either an emergency or a new job, no one else ever rang me. I hoped it was the latter and when I hung up, I shouted exultantly that I had finally found employment.
The night came that I should work and it was flooding. There was no way I could either navigate our pea-soup like dirt road, or through the seven gushing causeways between our place and town in my little red car. Dad decided he would take me in our 4WD and wait for my shift to finish.
As I prepared to go in, he prayed that any forces of evil would leave me alone, and it worked, as crazy as it was for my first night, I had fun and did not have to work much in the bar. I worked an hour overtime and scored two more shifts for the next week.
This time Dad was away and so I drove in myself. That was fine, I was a big girl and I could handle the slowly drying roads. I walked in, the busyness engulfed me and I was soon caught up in confusion and frustration, even spilling a glass of wine on myself, narrowly missing the customer. The influence of the dragon had not been discerned. The scene repeated itself the next night except for spilling the wine, instead I made and delivered the drinks wrong and I found that I hated working in the bar. I was told that unless I improved I would be fired.
This was a new scenario for me; everywhere else I had volunteered or worked, my performance had been so good I had been given extra shifts and asked to help those who weren’t quite up to par.
My next few shifts came and went with great frustration till I found myself hating my new job. As I prepared to drive in on Saturday night, I asked Dad to pray and in that instance, the spirit of the dragon was discerned, bound and rendered ineffective to cause me any more torment and my night was almost fun.
“And I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Matthew 16:19 NKJV
The discerning of spirits: 1 Cor 12:10 NKJV
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