pt. 3: of internships and love
I've been thinking about how to write about my internship at KLBJ 590. When I look back at a lot of my college life, it was an great pursuit of parties, boys, drinking, with some academics thrown in. As my college roommate Jane commented on my last post, she and I were "not exactly on the path paved to maturity."
It would be easy to make fun of myself, of those days. But the truth is that I was pretty lost. I didn't know who I was. The only real thing at the time, and even that was negotiable, was a romance I had my freshman year. It ended in heartbreak and I let it define me for quite a while.
As a Communications major, we had the opportunity of doing an internship in the field and I was fortunate enough to end up at KLBJ-AM. The station manager in 1986 was an easy-going man named Freddy who liked my writing and encouraged me to write some station promos. Unfortunately, Freddy was let go a few weeks after I arrived, replaced by the much more conservative Mark Caesar.
I remember two other interns while I was there. A sorority girl from UT who came dressed in suits and hot-rollered hair, more suited to television anchoring than radio broadcasting. There was also a quiet man who seemed really old to me. Possibly 40 years old. He, like me, seemed not to know what to do with himself. Interns were kind of left to their own devices. I'm sure that's not the case now. Ahem. I also spent some time watching Sargeant Sam Cox deliver the traffic. Spellbinding.
Mark Caesar did not let me write, but thought I had the voice for being on-air. I was self-conscious, but I think with some encouragement I would have tried it. I was still nursing my broken heart and spent a good amount of time in the break room. When I ventured out, I did learn a few things about production and gained an appreciation for the world of broadcasting.
There was one female employee that I'll not forget who worked in traffic. We were sitting together at an event and she really encouraged me to pursue radio. She told me it would be tough, but it would be worth it. She was the only person at that station who welcomed me and encouraged me.
I didn't really believe in myself at that age. I don't know that I felt anyone else did either. Maybe they did and I just didn't realize it. My high school years were lonely and tough, and I know I picked a college I felt I could easily find a social scene that I craved. I passed up UT, Lawrence, a few other good schools to go to Concordia.
As I thought about writing about these years, I knew I wouldn't want to because so much of it is embarrassing. Not my proudest moments. Then last week at church I heard a message where I was reminded that God knew every one of my days. Every one of them. He knew I would have that internship. He knew I would be given opportunities I would pass up. He knew relationships would be full of drama and that my days then had very little to do with Him.
Even so, God never has stopped pursuing me. It doesn't mean I always felt some holy presence, because I didn't. But I knew if I called for Him for help, He would be there. He didn't fix things for me. But he didn't leave me either. It took many more years for me to understand that following Jesus was different than being a Christian and really having nothing to show for it.
Someone at work recently told me a story, a religious encounter she had and she said, "I wanted to tell you because you're so religious." I really hope I am not. I know I'm not. Having Jesus in my life is very different from attending church every Sunday and checking off my daily devotional and prayer time. You can be religious about Oprah if you want.
Some of the meanest, most hurtful human beings I've encountered are Christians. I have often wondered how I have stayed a Christian. A good chunk of the people I really like are not. One of my best friends, Jakes, said something very wise to me today in a text. As I whined about my friendships to her (and count yourself blessed if you have an awesome friend who will let you complain to them about other friends), she said she's been telling herself "love believes the best."
It's so easy to be hurt, to believe people don't like you. But if we believe the best of others, of situations, we can save ourselves a whole lot of heartache.
Love believes the best.
Steve and I have told our boys over and over we believe in them. That they need to believe in themselves. We've also talked a lot about the difference between believing in God and believing God is who He says He is.
I hope they know the grace of God and that as Paul writes, "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial."
What I didn't know when I ended that internship at KLBJ 590, was that a few years down the line, 10 to be exact, I would be given a chance to redeem my career in broadcasting.
But first, next up, a few job interviews worth mentioning. And for those of you who know the story of my job as the Marriott hostess that lasted not even a day, you will get to see a fantastic photo on one pretty amazing mauve suit.
It would be easy to make fun of myself, of those days. But the truth is that I was pretty lost. I didn't know who I was. The only real thing at the time, and even that was negotiable, was a romance I had my freshman year. It ended in heartbreak and I let it define me for quite a while.
As a Communications major, we had the opportunity of doing an internship in the field and I was fortunate enough to end up at KLBJ-AM. The station manager in 1986 was an easy-going man named Freddy who liked my writing and encouraged me to write some station promos. Unfortunately, Freddy was let go a few weeks after I arrived, replaced by the much more conservative Mark Caesar.
I remember two other interns while I was there. A sorority girl from UT who came dressed in suits and hot-rollered hair, more suited to television anchoring than radio broadcasting. There was also a quiet man who seemed really old to me. Possibly 40 years old. He, like me, seemed not to know what to do with himself. Interns were kind of left to their own devices. I'm sure that's not the case now. Ahem. I also spent some time watching Sargeant Sam Cox deliver the traffic. Spellbinding.
Mark Caesar did not let me write, but thought I had the voice for being on-air. I was self-conscious, but I think with some encouragement I would have tried it. I was still nursing my broken heart and spent a good amount of time in the break room. When I ventured out, I did learn a few things about production and gained an appreciation for the world of broadcasting.
There was one female employee that I'll not forget who worked in traffic. We were sitting together at an event and she really encouraged me to pursue radio. She told me it would be tough, but it would be worth it. She was the only person at that station who welcomed me and encouraged me.
I didn't really believe in myself at that age. I don't know that I felt anyone else did either. Maybe they did and I just didn't realize it. My high school years were lonely and tough, and I know I picked a college I felt I could easily find a social scene that I craved. I passed up UT, Lawrence, a few other good schools to go to Concordia.
As I thought about writing about these years, I knew I wouldn't want to because so much of it is embarrassing. Not my proudest moments. Then last week at church I heard a message where I was reminded that God knew every one of my days. Every one of them. He knew I would have that internship. He knew I would be given opportunities I would pass up. He knew relationships would be full of drama and that my days then had very little to do with Him.
Even so, God never has stopped pursuing me. It doesn't mean I always felt some holy presence, because I didn't. But I knew if I called for Him for help, He would be there. He didn't fix things for me. But he didn't leave me either. It took many more years for me to understand that following Jesus was different than being a Christian and really having nothing to show for it.
Someone at work recently told me a story, a religious encounter she had and she said, "I wanted to tell you because you're so religious." I really hope I am not. I know I'm not. Having Jesus in my life is very different from attending church every Sunday and checking off my daily devotional and prayer time. You can be religious about Oprah if you want.
Some of the meanest, most hurtful human beings I've encountered are Christians. I have often wondered how I have stayed a Christian. A good chunk of the people I really like are not. One of my best friends, Jakes, said something very wise to me today in a text. As I whined about my friendships to her (and count yourself blessed if you have an awesome friend who will let you complain to them about other friends), she said she's been telling herself "love believes the best."
It's so easy to be hurt, to believe people don't like you. But if we believe the best of others, of situations, we can save ourselves a whole lot of heartache.
Love believes the best.
Steve and I have told our boys over and over we believe in them. That they need to believe in themselves. We've also talked a lot about the difference between believing in God and believing God is who He says He is.
I hope they know the grace of God and that as Paul writes, "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial."
What I didn't know when I ended that internship at KLBJ 590, was that a few years down the line, 10 to be exact, I would be given a chance to redeem my career in broadcasting.
But first, next up, a few job interviews worth mentioning. And for those of you who know the story of my job as the Marriott hostess that lasted not even a day, you will get to see a fantastic photo on one pretty amazing mauve suit.