The hope of glory

So on Tuesday, I went to the office early, about an hour earlier than I had been arriving of late. I've pretty much always worked later hours, and usually longer ones, than many of my coworkers. But on this day I figured that, if I was being let go, it would be best for everyone involved to get it out of the way early in the day.

When I arrived, neither of the guys in the nearest cube had yet been summoned to learn of their fate. Soon thereafter one of the guys was called to the conference room, and returned a couple minutes later with a piece of paper in his hand and let us know he'd been cut. I couldn't have been more surprised; this was one of the guys who had been traveling the world installing and troubleshooting the system that was supposed to be lifting the company out of its financial straits. If he was gone, there was no longer any question that I would be, too.

The severance package might not be quite as good as it was several years ago, but it is still very solid, so I was not excessively anxious about our financial position if my analysis was correct. Within a minute or so, my own phone rang, and at that point I knew I was cut. They have always notified the people who are let go first, followed by the other team members. Sure enough, when I entered the conference room my boss told me that I had been "impacted." What a sanitary word they've chosen; I've always hated it, because even when it was my coworkers who were leaving it was obvious that we were all "impacted," even as much as I hate that use of the word. I told him that I had figured as much, and after he let me know the key dates and where and when I'd be getting more information, he asked if I had any questions.

I'd actually developed the habit over the years of praying for my boss - whomever it might be - when there was a layoff, not so much that they might have the good sense to keep me but sincerely for their own peace of mind. I imagine that this must be one of the most difficult aspects of supervision, and I've always recognized the stressful nature of being in that sort of position. Perhaps this was what helped me ask the two questions that were on my mind. First I wanted to know if there was anything in my job performance that I should have done differently, and was relieved when he told me there wasn't.

Then I was able to ask how he was doing. He seemed a little relieved to have the opportunity to share how much he had been struggling over this. Even after several rounds of layoffs over the past several years, I'm glad that he hasn't become jaded over the process. I think he also recognizes that the only way his team isn't going to have more work than people to do it is if this product fails to take off, and that would not bode well for the company.

At any rate, I feel as if my genuine concern for him was the one thing I was able to do to really witness the presence of Christ in my life. I don't know if it had that effect, but I am hopeful that it did, and that I might get a chance to give him the credit more explicitly before I am completely out the door.