Even though I'd seen it coming for a few days, the reality of that December morning was devastating. I was fired after five years as superintendent of a private school near Dallas. I'd thought it was only people who performed poorly that lost jobs. But I was a professional and college-educated; I'd given my all to the school! I'd always had a good job and good pay. Now the letter I held in my hand told me that none of that mattered. A difference in philosophy with a school board had reduced me from an administrator to just another statistic among the unemployed.

At the beginning I was mainly angry and anxious about my family's finances. Then as I watched my wife, Jeanne, go off to her job and my daughter leave for high school every morning, I became overwhelmed by the aloneness I felt. I hadn't just lost a job—I had lost my whole identity.

For months I felt that I was hardly a person anymore. But slowly, during that time, I discovered how to deal not only with the loss of a job, but with the loss of me.

1. Heal the hurt of rejection first. It was very hard to accept the fact that I'd been fired. I wanted to fight for my job, but there was no one to challenge. My job was lost through unfortunate circumstances, not because of my own lack of skills or ability. It just happened, as it did to many others, because of precarious economic times. For weeks I had to remind myself of this constantly, until it finally began to sink in, healing the anger and hurt I felt inside.

2. Job-hunt, then let God work. In the weeks after I lost my job, I got my personal file and credentials in order. Then I sent out applications and résumés to everyone I could think of in my field; I visited schools in person, and went on interviews. I heard, "Sorry, we have nothing available," a lot—or I heard nothing. But once I felt satisfied I had done everything possible to search out a job, I felt a new peace, a release from the futility of sitting by the telephone, waiting for it to ring. When I consciously put my future in God's hands, he gave me peace of mind.

3. Keep busy. One day the phone did ring, but it wasn't a job offer; it was my father-in-law, asking if I might like to help some around his house. I fixed cabinets, re-planted shrubs and did other odd chores. It made me feel good about myself and put me in motion. I began helping with the church education programs. I worked on my doctoral degree, something I had had little time for. Closets and files that had been ignored for years were cleaned, sorted out and painted. All that work didn't restore any lost wages, but it showed me that I could still enjoy using my skills to help people--and it kept me from dwelling on the injustice of not having a job.

4. Rely on your friends. There were days when the job search appeared hopeless, when both Jeanne and I needed a friend to talk with or a shoulder to cry on. By opening up about our feelings and needs to a couple of close friends, we each got warm encouragement.

It was seven months before I found a new job. But during that time, I found myself content in God's will, sure of his leading, confident in his love, and more understanding of others in similar situations.

Living without a job was a terrible burden to bear. Living with myself was a tremendous joy to discover.

This article originally appeared in Guideposts magazine. Visit the recently updated guideposts.com today.