Color My World

My first job after earning my degree was with American Plastics Coloring Company (don't remember the real name). The company's only product was concentrated coloring elements for plastics processing. There were two basic areas: the manufacturing floor and a lab. One dirty, one clean. I was started out in manufacturing. The pay wasn't great, but I had medical coverage for my family, paid holidays and the promise of a Christmas turkey. Really.

Did I mention it was dirty? I don't remember getting a uniform, but I could wear jeans and a t-shirt because they wouldn't be recognizable by the end of my shift. There were two types of color concentrates --- a powdered dye and coloring beads. The dye was made by mixing ingredients in a huge vat. Noisy and dirty. And sweaty, but fortunately my sweat didn't affect the colors. The beading process was more fun and not as dirty.

Several bags of powdered dye were dumped in a bin, mixed with water, then extruded into a long water trough about ten feet in length. Four strings of soft plastic would emit from the extruder at the same time, side by side. The trick was to move the strings along the trough, using wooden paddles, as the plastic cooled and hardened. At the end of the trough the strings were quick-dried by a powerful blower, then chopped into quarter-inch beads.

Panic buttons were everywhere, and panic I did. Strings would end up going everywhere. Water splashes abounded. I felt like I was in an I Love Lucy skit. I don't think I prayed, but I probably should have. The bosses were patient, and I finally learned how to operate the beast. This may have been a testing period because shortly after mastering the process, I was moved into the lab.

The lab was cool. By that I mean it was air-conditioned, and it was very interesting. The lab process began with receipt of a color swatch from the customer. One client was Oscar Meyer Company, who wanted a particular yellow for their bologna packages. Another was Brut; they wanted a specific green for their aftershave container, but it had to be translucent, so that the colored liquid would appear to be clear.

The challenge was to mix ingredients to match the color swatch, then create a color chip, using an injection molding machine. Finally, compare the color chip with the original desired color sample. Almost all first matches failed. This required re-mixing ingredients, adding or removing colors and making more chips until the desired match was accomplished.

But the challenge wasn't over. When a successful match was achieved, we had to convert the formula for making a larger quantity of color dye that would be produced in manufacturing. This involved the use of a smaller extruder, making more chips and checking the match. Now I was regretting my low grades in math. Converting formulas was not my strong suit. There were four of us in the lab, and once again patience on their part was needed to get me through.

This would also be my first encounter with Christian doctrines that would make me feel uneasy. That's right, in a lab. The lab superivsor somehow quickly picked up on the fact that I was a fellow-believer. And he also happened to be my pinochle parter (We played cards at lunch --- no money involved). He was an intense person, and I wasn't an effective partner to his liking. He also challenged me on several levels in spiritual discussions.

This fellow would introduce to me what later I could only identify as Reformed theology, or Calvinism. He had specific Bible verses that supported his theory that God condemned everybody, then chose certain ones who would be saved through the blood of Christ. While I firmly believed that Christ died for our sins, I couldn't agree that God would intentionally pass over people, simply because they weren't chosen, people who would go on to be tortured forever in a fiery hell. His supporting verses just had to mean something different.

He was so aggressive in his approach that our "discussions" were little more than impassioned debates. I began to avoid him and dreaded lunch periods, where I would once again fail to get his bidding and playing signals in the card game. I suggested changing partners or playing cutthroat, where each player is responsible for his own performance. But the supervisor insisted on playing partners and that I had to join him because we were fellow Christians.

It's amazing how we all got along in the lab, but God works in mysterious ways, and we had a great working relationship. The supervisor was even becoming receptive to the fact that I was avoiding spiritual discussions. He confessed that he was often too hot-headed, that he enjoyed being with me and that he was willing to accept that both of us could be off on our interpretations of scripture.

So things were finally going well. We even agreed in the lab to go to 10-hour days, thereby giving us three-day weekends and four-day weekends on an alternating basis. Good job, great benefits --- even the pay got a little better. Not to mention the upcoming free turkey (or ham).

But the Tempter was about to step in at just the right time. I got a phone call that would entice me to give my budding career up. As I said, I was stupid.

Graduated But Still Learning

Sometimes it is difficult to keep focused on my mission for this blog, that being the recording of my spiritual journey. But so much of our lives is bound up in trying to separate our spiritual journey from the real world, when, in fact, the two are inseparable. What we do in our daily lives (where our church family doesn't see us) is a true reflection of our spiritual walk.

Before I leave my college days I must relate the fact that three significant things happened during those final two years. Another beautiful baby girl came into our family. I got my degree. And it looked like my marriage was in serious jeopardy. Not necessarily in that order.

I don't think the marriage was ending, but my young wife was almost at the end of her rope. My classes, studying and working were taking all of my energy and creating a life that contrasted to my role as husband and father. And I was an idiot. I was proud of my little family, but I lacked in the ability or desire to nurture them.

As I reflect on this I see that I myself had no role model in either of my parents to provide sincere, hands-on love to those who are most important to you. I saw my own role to be that of breadwinner and disciplinarian. I think now that I had reinforced it with my incorrect view of God. He supplied our needs and kicked our butts. And that was because he loved us. Tenderness was not manly.

To my shame I also failed in sharing many of the parental duties, again blaming it on being wiped out at the end of the day. But I always seemed to muster energy and enthusiasm for church things. Later in our marriage Lois would confess that she wished she had married the guy she saw at church, not the one she had to go home with. She has already earned sainthood for the many years she endured my mood swings and periods of pouting.

I did not intend to make this a negative article. We had many good years and many fond memories. I could never in a million years have found a better mate --- or any better daughters. But this is a spiritual journey, and it's made up of memories, reflections on encouraging things, as well as hurtful things. We learn from our mistakes, and sometimes it takes years. And sometimes we recognize God's hand in it, and it deepens our relationship with him. We begin to see those around us in a different light, particularly those who we are blessed to be able to call immediate family.

A Degree In Hard Knocks

I had finally made it. My parents flew in for my graduation. My mom was so proud. My wife was proud. I was relieved. I had earned a bachelor's degree in fine arts, and I was ready to hit the road. I could paint, draw, act, sing and play. Who wouldn't be anxious to receive this talented college grad?

I passed out resumes. I called companies. I went door to door. I answered "help wanted" ads in the paper. Many wanted help. None wanted my help. I had a degree, so they wouldn't let me flip burgers. I had no experience, so they wouldn't let me make their commercial, direct their musical or photograph their babies.

So I tapped into my resources at our church. These were the folks that knew me. Some were influential. They could open doors. One guy, David E., worked for the David C. Cook Publishing Company. He agreed to take my art portfolio and show it to some executives.

Weeks later I received a copy of a letter that some uppity-up had sent to David, along with my portfolio. The reply basically said that "Mr. Johnson's drawings were interesting, but he should seriously consider another line of work." Yikes! I was just one brick shy of devastated. I took the letter back to a couple of my college professors, asking them why I should have gotten such a response. I had gotten all A's and B's in my classes. Why was I not now qualified to pursue my career?

They responded that Cook Publishing was insensitive and unjust in dismissing me so hastily, and that I shouldn't give up. I seriously questioned my type of degree, the school I went to and the reliability of good church contacts. But I had to feed my family and take the next step.

I was willing to take anything at this point, so back to the want ads I went. I finally got a decent interview with a plastics coloring company. They were disappointed that I didn't have experience, but felt that since I could manage to get a degree, maybe I would work out there. I also foolishly rationalized that an art degree and coloring were a good fit, so I obviously was right for the job.

I'm sure I must have prayed during this degree-to-job hunting period. I put in my time at church. But beyond that not much spiritual activity was going on in my life. I could envision what God wanted for me, but I don't think I ever stopped to find out what he really wanted for me. The job didn't pay much, but had decent benefits and had the potential of being a great career start. If only I would have stayed. Another one of those should've/could've/would've events.