What’s the hottest you’ve ever felt?

For me, it was the two weeks I spent in Delhi a few summers back.  It was about 120 degrees everyday.  Dipping down into the high nineties at night.  In that heat we would eat curry, play cricket, and draw henna.

The second hottest I’ve ever been was this summer, where days hovered around 108º.  One day, fearing my commute to work had given me a case of heat stroke, I broke down and threw my entire savings into purchasing a car.

The last few weeks our AC at work went off.  This would be uncomfortable anywhere, but considering that our tiny little store services thousands of people a day, the body heat alone made it feel (and smell) like a locker room.

I have this weird struggle.  Almost daily I find myself nostalgic for a world I do not know.  A world where you harvest your vegetables, kill your meat, and go to bed when the sun goes down.  I often think about the damage our technology is doing to us, and how it’s driving us further from each other, and making it harder to be still and know our God.

But never, not for even a moment, have I doubted the blessing of AC.  In Delhi, I wondered what such heat could do to a person’s soul.  This summer the heat helped trigger a dark night of the soul that ruled my life for months.  The fact is that we’re not built to live in extremes.  So as simple as it sounds, this holiday season, I’m thankful for AC.

Recently a friend of mine left what some might consider a “dream job” to sell stuff in a mall.  This person pursued the job passionately, and changed the lives entire families.  In a city full of artists and bleeding hearts looking for a meaningful career, my friend was living the dream.  But after awhile my friend was overwhelmed and burned out.  One time my friend said that an ideal job would include spreadsheets or growing vegetables-just not dealing with people!  My friend is thrilled with the new job.

I understand this well.  A few years ago, I found myself working at a well known megachurch, making decent money “doing ministry.”  Yet after time my ministry devolved into a job, that many days  consisted of sitting alone in a dark room, in an empty building, sending emails that would be ignored.

It took me over six months to get a job.  I couldn’t find a new church or a non-profit that seemed to fit. I couldn’t even get work flipping burgers.  Finally, I heard back from the world’s most successful retail store, and I began two (and counting) very different, engaging and stretching years.

There’s a lot of things that I could say about my retail experience, but they’d probably get me fired for violating some non-disclosure agreement.  Instead, I’ll share some great thoughts from a blogpost by Penelope Trunk entitled “The New Post-College Prestige Job is Retail”:

One of the most jarring aspects of emerging adulthood is that in college we are surrounded by friends, and after college, our friends disperse. This means that at the time in life where we are separating from our parents, learning to support ourselves, and trying to figure out where we fit in the world, we’re doing it alone. This is why depression is such a huge risk for people in their twenties, and why a support system is so important.

For everyone in the workforce, having two friends in the office can save a worker and a job. But this is especially true for people in their 20s because while other people probably go home to a significant other and maybe even kids, many people in their twenties go home to no one. In an office full of people in their 20s – which is most retail and not most offices – the shift from college to adult life is not so drastic and lonely.

I’m excited for my friend.  Selling stuff in the mall is not the same as starting the next Teach for America or rescuing kids with International Justice Mission.  And at some point, I hope to find myself involved in such great works.  But for now, I’m in retail.  I’m not alone in a dark office.  And for that, I’m grateful.