I Am Job — My Fears When the Future Feels Empty

I Am Job — My Fears When the Future Feels Empty

Some days I wake up and the fear is louder than anything else.

“What am I going to do?”

“What if nothing is going to continue not working out?”

“Where is the money going to come from just to survive?”

“What if Fuckall Good continues not to happen to me?”

I sit with these questions and there are no easy answers. No big breakthrough. No clear next step. Just the heavy feeling of not knowing and trying everyday already knowing my attempts is going to be in vein.

I’ve been here before. Many times. After the court case. After losing everything. After the stroke. After watching doors close one after another, after broken down relationships, after being cheated on and deeply humiliated and betrayed.

And still I’m here. Breathing. Still building. Still showing up just to go home without a cent.

This is what being Job feels like most times — not the dramatic suffering, but the quiet, grinding uncertainty. The long wait where nothing moves and your mind tries to fill the emptiness with worst-case scenarios.

But here’s what I’m learning in this season:

The fear doesn’t mean I’m failing.

It means I’m human.

It means I still care enough to want something better.

So I do the small things I can control.

I write.

I prepare.

I keep my word.

I stay honest even when it costs me everything every time because people likes to sit with the layers, the gossipers, the argumentative and the ones causing drama and feeds of drama because they have nothing going in their lives. They cause drama to keep themselves busy and feel empowered in their own worlds.

Because that’s what Job did. He didn’t have the answers either. He just kept breathing and speaking his truth. Just another day for me and Fuckall to achieve again on my own. I suppose I would have been up a long time ago if I had someone building with me but I choose to mossy along on my own in order to spare myself the hurt and be trail again.

My name is Job.

What’s your name?

What season are you in right now?

I’m right here with you — even when the future feels empty.

Still building.