Today began extremely well. It went Starbucks well. It goes without saying that a day beginning with Starbucks is a day worth remembering. Lunch was enjoyable. I spent my lunch hour writing a blog at a new cafe. Returning to work was the first mistake. Little did I know that I would return to an email inbox full of assignments all due tomorrow - and the person assigning them is nowhere close to being my boss.

My temper flared hot instantly. It was all I could do to compose myself and write a professional sounding email response. Now that the day is over and I have some distance, I realize that my anger was fueled by my fear. These 8 assignments due within 24 hours which, I forgot to mention, were originally assigned to other people who failed to accomplish them. I had completed all of my assignments for this project and everyone else was behind schedule. When I saw those emails, the first thought in my mind was how everyone would now blame me if the project wasn’t completed on time. The injustice of that scenario caused immediate panic which led to explosive anger.

When everything you do for an employer is at best met with a “Good job! Too bad you still suck at that, that and that,” you tend to feel a bit defensive. While some other employees have received praise from the big man, he feels the need to temper his compliments to me with criticisms. I love the fairness of it all.

After a good half hour venting session with my immediate manager, I felt much better for being heard. It means a lot for someone to listen, understand, and sympathize. Obviously, we’d all like for that someone to not only sympathize but work on our behalf as well. While that would be nice, I’m not holding my breath. I don’t expect anyone at work to be on my side when it really counts. They come to me to take, not to give. Nobody ever comes to give.

Despite that, I feel much better now, having vented at work in a positive manner. My manager is actually a really good guy. He is willing to listen without judging. But even if you don’t have that manager who makes you feel understood, conflict at work should be mandatory. Forget all the political correctness and posturing. Conflict is what happens when real people are honest. Conflict resolution is what happens when those same people want to understand and resolve differences so that everyone enjoys their role in the company.

It is my firm conviction that workplace conflict is a lost artform in desperate need of a renaissance. Perhaps I should start a movement.

I’m in the middle of hardship. A year and a half ago, my wife and I invested the majority of her inheritance in a business venture with a friend. I’ve known this guy for 12 years. He has always been a man of his word, as far as I’ve seen. There are flaws, of course. He loves to spend. He loves the high life.

We had successfully done a deal or two with him already, which built our confidence in him. Then a big deal came up with the opportunity for a huge return. We jumped into it without pausing to really consider. Needless to say, he was talking about bankruptcy seven months later.

Today, we’re still wondering if he will be a man of his word and pay us back. Legally, he doesn’t owe us anything. But my wife has agonized over the loss of her inheritance, and I feel this burden on my shoulders to find a better job, make more money, and compensate for this other guy’s failure. Truthfully, he will probably pay us back over time. It’s not lost money. Just lost investment time.

I have so many mixed emotions. I get so angry I want to punch him. Then I get so anxious, I worry that my wife blames me.

I just hope that someday I will be writing a post called “The Blessings of Mixing Business and Friendship.”

I hear people say that God is the real provider, and I wonder what’s my role in all of this then? Faith and reality are difficult to reconcile. Believe this, they say, for no other reason except someone said to. God will provide all your needs. I hope so. I make choices every day not to freak out over being able to pay the bills or provide for our baby. I choose to let someone else carry the weight.

Faith is a tricky thing. It’s not what the mainline Baptists and Methodists and Presbyterians make it out to be. Faith is trust. Faith is confidence. I have confidence that I am a blessed man. I feel blessed. I’m not rich, but my needs are always provided for. Financially, I actually do expect to be blessed with at least what I need, if not also some of what I want.

But that makes job interviews and emotional positioning somewhat confusing. How hard do I press for that new job? Is it my doing, or the Lord’s? How much effort is needed from me, and how much is too much? At what point am I relying on my own strength?

A guy told me recently that he realized he had been trying to make money so that he wouldn’t need God. That was his goal. He didn’t want to need faith. He wanted to provide it all so he could count on his money to help his family make it through. That statement cut me to the bone. It’s true if anything is true. Pushing forward to make more money is usually a statement from my heart that I don’t really believe God wants me to have nicer things. I believe he will provide my needs, but my wants fall under this category of the unknown. Maybe he does want to give me a nicer house, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he does want me to take my family on vacations to the Caribbean; maybe he doesn’t. I honestly don’t know.

That explains all the hard work and stress. God will give me what I need, but will I always be lower middle class? I don’t know.

I’ve had a revelation about family. It all began when I ruined Father’s Day for my whole family. My mom started sharing her feelings about a pastor I care deeply about and I snapped at her. Several members of the family continued to talk about flaws in the church, and needless to say I snapped at everyone. I had a legitimate reason for being angry: I hate hearing people judge my church leaders when they don’t know the whole situation. But my response was so laced with bitterness that the rest of the day was overshadowed by uncomfortable silence. This Father’s Day was for me what some people call the gift of trouble.

I come from a screwed up family. I know everyone does to some extent, but there’s a lot of room for play there. But this Father’s Day was a God-given opportunity for our family to face the fact that we are not good at speaking our hearts or resolving conflict with each other. My dad is an amazing man, yet he’s totally clueless about how to speak to his own wife and how to lead the family with a conqueror’s attitude. He passively waits for life to change before his eyes. He prays for people and relationships to heal, but he doesn’t do much on his own to help.

I’m in a bind. I shared my heart with my father, and he was receptive, but he didn’t offer the one thing I didn’t realize I was looking for. He failed to acknowledge the failure in a sincere and sorrowful way. My pain hasn’t been legitimized yet, and I still feel slighted for it. I don’t care how old I am. I want and need my parents to feel sorrow over neglecting my heart as a child. I need them to care. I need for my loss to mean something. I need to be healed.

Pray for me - that God would lead this time of correction and healing within my family. Ask Him to make my heart full. I want a full heart. Full of love. Full of reassurance. Full instead of desperately thirsty.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this headache. It’s not like I had anything to drink last night. It hurt bad enough to wake me up this morning. Now I’m laying on the couch, wondering why I feel so compelled to turn on the computer every Saturday when there’s no work to be done. It’s a compulsion, like I have staked my life on the Internet.

Every Saturday, I wake up and head for the laptop, hoping something will save me from that empty feeling that tells me I have no life. I miss feeling special in the world. That’s partly why I stick the computer so often. I feel like I have more significance online than off. Sure, I make an impact on my family, but society at large is not affected by my presence.

I wonder what would happen if I disappeared. Would anybody miss me besides my wife? Even if they couldn’t place the feeling exactly, would anyone feel a vague loss or emptiness?

Then I wonder if anyone would care if I joined the KISS FM Kidd Kraddick in the Morning Show. Would anyone like me as a radio personality? Would they think I was a downer and a bit killer? Or could I make it as well as JC and Taylor and be accepted as the newbie?

My headache is going away. I’m drinking water and hoping to hydrate myself back to health.