I'll Never See You Again

It's my last day working at the rental center. And it's surreal.

"Thanks for calling Shipshe Rental, how can I help you today?" or "Thanks for calling your favorite rental store! I'm finishing up with a customer, please hold and I'll be right with you" has come out of my mouth hundreds, if not thousands of times since January of 2024. This job has provided one of the largest learning curves of any job that I have ever had. I entered into a male-dominated industry of construction equipment, home/yard improvement projects and general heavy equipment usage and had a hard and fast education on everything from concrete core drill bits to sizes of augers, tractor attachments needed for planting fields of grass and which lift you want to use whether you're inside or outside a building.

900 North State Road 5, Shipshewana, Indiana

Simutaneously, I started dipping my toes into the entertainment rental arena as well. Tables, chairs, tablecloths, popcorn machines, chafing dishes were just the start. After the trip to the American Rental Association conference in Las Vegas this past January, I had understood that we were on our way to expanding into tents and other concession items for a full service party rental provider.

But it wasn't meant to be and God had other plans. The slowing building trades economy in the area were blamed for a less than ideal cash flow situation for the company and I had to find a new job.

I'm happy to share that I'll be kicking off the Easter Octave with new employment. But for now, on the Friday before Easter Sunday, I'm making the most of my last day here at the rental center.

Of course, in true fashion, making the most of it means that today is busier than ever and I can barely put the phone down before it begins to ring again. I've come back to writing this post about three times already, so I'll keep it short.

The transition out of here is a lesson in faith: Do I actually trust that God has a plan for me? For my family? A future and hope?

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11

Of course I do. But that doesn't mean that I won't grieve what will never be. Or that I won't find myself brimming with tears of gratitude when I know that I'm talking to the 'regulars' for the last time. I don't actually tell them: I thank them for being great customers and that I've been grateful for the chance to work with them. They return the gratitude and say good-bye in that familiar Amish, or good ol' farmer boy way. I hang up and know that I'll never talk to them again. They will call again next week to say that they are done with a lawn roller, telehandler or to make a last minute reservation and I just won't be here.

If I had time, I'd spend a paragraph or two reflecting on how this situation is a foreshadowing of my own death. But not today. Besides, I don't feel like reapplying my make-up.

So time to turn up my Beatles station and wrap up this chapter in my memoir. It's time for a new adventure. Let's do this.