Those are the emotions I'm swinging between now.
Our canine house guest, Tripp, just departed. Gone are the comfy pillows he snuggled on while I typed and he napped. Gone is the baby gate that was supposed to keep him out of the construction area of my house (it worked 75% of the time, but that story will have to wait for another post). Gone are his food bowls and the pleading look that materialized whenever they were empty.
I know I need to count my blessings when I get into a funk like this, and there are plenty of them. Opening a prayer guide packet this morning, I came upon Luke 6:38: "Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Ephesians 3:20, one of my all-time favorites, followed: "Now [God] is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us..." Finally, Philippians 4:19 leaped out at me: "And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus."
Still, I feel bereft.
I gave a talk at my Al Anon meeting last night about the ways God has provided for me over the years. I recalled the anonymous monetary gifts my husband and I received when he was in medical school. I described taking a blind leap of faith by leaving a job without having a new one lined up. My then-toddler son was accompanying me to my part-time job at a day care center, which helped with expenses while Mike was earning his medical degree. My little boy began acting out in order to divert my attention from the other dozen kids I had to manage. When my request for him to be placed in a separate class was denied, I regretfully left the position. A week later, the director begged me to return in a substitute capacity, where I was given more hours and, lo and behold, a separate class for my son!
Next, I recounted the financial terror I felt when leaving my husband, then finding just enough money in our joint savings account to pay my son's school tuition in advance. I looked back on my first job after becoming a single parent: how God used my sister to find the perfect work-at-home position that would allow me to care for my children; how I really shouldn't have gotten it because, in despair over my marital situation, I had to cancel the interview, thinking I'd never hear from the employer again. Miraculously, he still wanted to hire me, and we worked together for five years, just long enough for me to get my younger son into school so I could begin a full-time position with benefits. I recalled having a flexible weekend job drop into my lap, providing just enough money for the orthodontia my older son badly needed. I related God's most recent resourcefulness in having me stumble across a cache of jewelry and coins left over from my parents' estate, which has brought in much needed funds for an essential home renovation project.
And these are just the highlights! I've shared in the past how my parents and sisters have been an incredible source of blessing and support to my children and me. I might not even have a decent place to live or the wherewithal to fix it up, were it not for the exorbitant generosity of my family of origin.
Yet, somehow my mind keeps getting trapped in anxiety. As the bills for the kitchen project come due, my savings are taking a hit (the second major one after I had to replace my car two years ago). I'm questioning some past monetary decisions which I hoped would please the Lord, yet seem to have come back to bite me.
I don't want to go backwards. When I opened my talk last night, I remembered being driven by great financial worry as a young adult. For example, I used to buy huge quantities of sale items at the grocery store. Only later did I realize my behavior was rooted in the irrational fear that those things might never be on sale again. I didn't want to miss out or be caught short! I fretted over recreational spending in the same way I fretted over recreation itself when I was in college; somehow I must have thought every dime and every minute needed to be reserved for life's necessities, as opposed to its niceties. Balance lost out to business every time.
I don't want to go backwards. If I'm to avoid it, I must focus on the fact that God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and (as evidenced by the steaks in my refrigerator), He's only too happy to share them with me.
Our canine house guest, Tripp, just departed. Gone are the comfy pillows he snuggled on while I typed and he napped. Gone is the baby gate that was supposed to keep him out of the construction area of my house (it worked 75% of the time, but that story will have to wait for another post). Gone are his food bowls and the pleading look that materialized whenever they were empty.
I know I need to count my blessings when I get into a funk like this, and there are plenty of them. Opening a prayer guide packet this morning, I came upon Luke 6:38: "Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Ephesians 3:20, one of my all-time favorites, followed: "Now [God] is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us..." Finally, Philippians 4:19 leaped out at me: "And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus."
Still, I feel bereft.
I gave a talk at my Al Anon meeting last night about the ways God has provided for me over the years. I recalled the anonymous monetary gifts my husband and I received when he was in medical school. I described taking a blind leap of faith by leaving a job without having a new one lined up. My then-toddler son was accompanying me to my part-time job at a day care center, which helped with expenses while Mike was earning his medical degree. My little boy began acting out in order to divert my attention from the other dozen kids I had to manage. When my request for him to be placed in a separate class was denied, I regretfully left the position. A week later, the director begged me to return in a substitute capacity, where I was given more hours and, lo and behold, a separate class for my son!
Next, I recounted the financial terror I felt when leaving my husband, then finding just enough money in our joint savings account to pay my son's school tuition in advance. I looked back on my first job after becoming a single parent: how God used my sister to find the perfect work-at-home position that would allow me to care for my children; how I really shouldn't have gotten it because, in despair over my marital situation, I had to cancel the interview, thinking I'd never hear from the employer again. Miraculously, he still wanted to hire me, and we worked together for five years, just long enough for me to get my younger son into school so I could begin a full-time position with benefits. I recalled having a flexible weekend job drop into my lap, providing just enough money for the orthodontia my older son badly needed. I related God's most recent resourcefulness in having me stumble across a cache of jewelry and coins left over from my parents' estate, which has brought in much needed funds for an essential home renovation project.And these are just the highlights! I've shared in the past how my parents and sisters have been an incredible source of blessing and support to my children and me. I might not even have a decent place to live or the wherewithal to fix it up, were it not for the exorbitant generosity of my family of origin.
Yet, somehow my mind keeps getting trapped in anxiety. As the bills for the kitchen project come due, my savings are taking a hit (the second major one after I had to replace my car two years ago). I'm questioning some past monetary decisions which I hoped would please the Lord, yet seem to have come back to bite me.
I don't want to go backwards. When I opened my talk last night, I remembered being driven by great financial worry as a young adult. For example, I used to buy huge quantities of sale items at the grocery store. Only later did I realize my behavior was rooted in the irrational fear that those things might never be on sale again. I didn't want to miss out or be caught short! I fretted over recreational spending in the same way I fretted over recreation itself when I was in college; somehow I must have thought every dime and every minute needed to be reserved for life's necessities, as opposed to its niceties. Balance lost out to business every time.
"Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." ~ Psalm 42:11
No comments:
Post a Comment