It probably wasn't as sudden as it seemed, but he only saw the chaos it put on the company and his own career. He was understandably frustrated because he had just been to a training session that discussed the dynamics of employee relations. He came back only to be hit with the exit of a supervisor. It threw off the company hierarchy in that the supervisor he went to the training session with had to fill in for the one that left, which then put his own future position as an instructor on hold.
I get the anger, I've experienced a similar issue, though not nearly as grave. I was a word processor with an architectural firm when the lead processor started being continually absent. None of us but the supervisor knew why and I was pretty snarky about it. The supervisor called me out over my attitude, which only further infuriated me. Turns out the lead processor was looking for a better job with a company that had further advancement opportunities. After she left, though, I blossomed in my own right. But like I said it wasn't as serious as a whole career. I was just out of college and wondering what one does with an English degree.
Personally, as far as the supervisor who jumped ship, I'm impressed with anyone who not only hears the voice of God, but who recognizes it as God. The problem with God talking to us is he speaks in our own voice. God sounds like us, there is no "booming voice of God" from the heavens, but rather his voice is that inexplicable answer to a problem that pops into our heads, a solution to a moral dilemma, or even a not-so-obvious sudden direction for our future. His voice sounds a lot like our own sub-conscience speaking, the part of our brains that keeps up the constant banter telling us what to do next.
There was an elderly gentleman in our parish some twenty years ago. Shortly after the church building was finished, he heard a message telling him to purchase a piano. He didn't play the piano, he didn't know anyone who played the piano, but he knew it was God and answered the call without questioning why. When the salesman asked where to send the piano, he told him he'd let him know. Then he called our church and asked if they needed a piano. They happened to be quite desperate for a bigger one to fit the new space.
I've always admired that story, because I've always wanted to be a person who was called for bigger things, or at least one who could hear a call, and understood it was God. Maybe I've been called and haven't listened.
It would take God literally standing before me and hitting me upside the head with a 2x4 to get me to comprehend "Here's your sign. Yes, I mean you." But aside from whether or not I can hear God, I hope I have empathy and compassion when someone needs it from me. Like the friends I wrote about yesterday, telling me something they needed someone else to hear or like my friend I wrote about last week who called me worthy and loved. I hope I take their hearts, cradle them in my hands and treat them gently.
Accepting other people's anguish and pain is more difficult than one would think, because it's human nature to rush to judgement over things we don't understand. We don't even have to agree with the concern at hand. We only need only stay open to the possibilities, accept them for what they are, and pray that God calls us up some day and says,
"Can you hear me now?"