A Beautiful Gift in (God's) Perfect Time

I am seldom at a loss for words. It just doesn't happen. The gift God heaped on me was using words and so it's very rare that I find myself unable to form words. 

I am happy to report that this just happened earlier this evening. 

Let me lay the groundwork.

Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that this winter just knocked it all out of me. Like everything--all my hope, all my sanity, all my health. All the meters were on zero at one point. My attendance at my Thursday activities (MOPS and Bible study) has been spotty at best. Really, I've made it to less than half of all of the meetings, either because I or my kids were sick.

One of the times I made it to Bible study, back in January, I was death-metal angry with God. I mean, I was lobbing profanity-laced prayers at him. Things had come to a head with Brian's job, our health was awful, my depression was deep and black and seemingly endless. 

I went to this particular Bible study fuming mad. I mean, if I had been a cartoon character, there would have been a black smoke cloud over my head. I was feeling very low. I had hoped that I could keep all of that to myself. I love to use words but I hesitate to use ugly words in front of people who hardly know me. I prefer to try and keep the illusion of my perfection alive for as long as possible. 

I had no intention of letting the dam break that day. I drew an extensive picture in my Bible study binder, I thought ugly things and I sat in the back of the room. 

But God had a plan.

Someone said something and it set me off. The person who said it has been through the wringer, too. She is not in the wringer now, but she has been there. She knows the pain I am feeling. The words she spoke are true for her now, after having been wrung out. She was not being condescending or Christian-y or anything like that. She was speaking God's truth.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. It felt like the words she spoke were like water on hot coals. I steamed over and let angry words pour out of me. Trust me, they weren't the uncensored version. It was definitely the PG version of the very R-rated rant that had been building in my brain. 

The leader, another wonderful and authentic woman of Christ, asked to pray for me. I angrily said no, because I didn't want the prayers. I didn't want to be comforted, I didn't want to be patted on the back. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to break something. I was foot-stomping, tantrum-throwing mad at God.

That day, before I left (early, before class was even over), one of the women in the study gave me $50. I was so ashamed by that. One of the reasons I never like to share is because I don't want people to think I'm going around with my hand out. I don't like charity. I am grateful for it, oh so grateful, but I don't like it. I don't like being powerless. It feels overwhelming to have people be generous with me. I don't feel like I deserve it.

I wanted to give the money back. The problem was that there was something I had to pay for and it ended up costing (almost exactly) $50 more than I was expecting it to cost. I had to swallow my pride and put the gift down on the counter at the vet's office. 

Since that day in January, my anger and vitriol has mellowed. I am still frustrated by the situations swirling around us. As I told a friend, I am not Pollyanna about the situations, but I'm not so death metal about them anymore. I have been able to make it to MOPS and Bible study, though we still have been dealing with ill health. 

So a month ago, I went to Bible study. I have not been intentional or disciplined about my homework. I started off the year doing pretty well, but with everything that has happened (coupled with the normal activities of life), I have fallen off pretty steeply with it. A month ago, I did complete some of the homework. We were just being done with the stomach flu, so my half-hearted stab at it felt like more than enough effort. 

Two weeks ago, I was starting to battle a sinus/ear infection, so I didn't attend the study. Tomorrow is the next Bible study day. Accordingly, after painting with my girlfriends tonight, I sat down on the couch and opened my binder. 

There was an envelope in the left side of the binder, peeking out above the built-in pocket of the vinyl binder. It was plain and white and had my name written on it in block letters. It was thick and I assumed it was a letter of encouragement. I really didn't have a clue about it's contents. 

It wasn't until I saw the contents of the envelope that I lost the ability to speak. I pulled a stack of 10 $100 bills. I started bawling. Brian was sitting on the other end of our sectional and I looked at him and gestured toward the envelope. I was gobsmacked and could do nothing more than gesture and make random squeaking noises. He seemed a bit annoyed and so I waved him over to see what I was talking about. Then I really lost it, because when he took the money into his hands, it somehow became more real. 

Someone in my Bible study gave my family $1000. Even typing that makes me burst into tears. I don't feel like anything I could write could adequately express my gratitude. I don't feel like words could measure how tremendous a gift this is for my family. It gives us some margin where there hasn't been any. It means that tomorrow, when I go to the store, I can buy all the fresh produce we will need to make it through to next week, rather than just a few apples to fudge our way through. It means my savings will quadruple by the end of the month. I won't have to stop saving in order to afford paying for Bekah's dance class and recital costumes. I can have money set aside for emergencies. 

I am ashamed that I didn't discover the gift until tonight. It means that there was $1000 sitting in my garage, in my untouched binder, for a month. A solid month. I am ashamed that my family needs a gift like this. I am ashamed because I will never be able to thank the people who were so abundantly kind to me. 

But here's the thing. These gracious people, who gifted this to us, were I know following God's prompting. They want to be anonymous because they don't want to take credit for doing something God was calling them to do. To those people, I thank you for listening and responding to God's calling. I know you know how much this means to my family. I know you know how grateful I am for such a generous gift. Earlier today I counted the money I had left for groceries and wasn't sure how it would stretch to cover all we needed. 

It reminded me of a story in 1 Kings 17, where Elijah encounters a widow upon arriving in Zeraphath. He asks her for water and a slice of bread. She is honest with him--she is gathering sticks to go home and use the remaining oil and flour she has to make a meal for herself and her son...and then die. Elijah then says, (v. 13-14, NIV), "Elijah said to her, "Don't be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your sonFor this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.'"

Whenever I am feeling like there's not enough for groceries, I think about that story. I know that no matter what, there will always be enough. I don't think about that with wants, but I know that our needs will always, always be met. And they always have been. So reading this story is more than just reading words on a page. It's an affirmation for me that what God writes about in the Bible is really true. This is so huge for someone whose faith is low. This has done more than provide for my family financially--it has replenished our faith stores (which were dangerously low) and given us some rest.

Dear readers, please understand something important. God is not a vending machine or Santa Claus. He is not in the business of giving us what we want in the way that we want it. He is in the business of meeting our needs. He is sovereign and knows how best to do that. Frequently, it doesn't look the way we think it should. I have often joked, through our financial struggles, that what I want is a sack of cash on my front porch. God, in his infinite wisdom, knows that this is not the best way to answer our prayers. 

I want to make it so clear that God's provision has been on my family in so many myriad ways over the past seven or so years. It has sometimes been in this way, anonymous gifts of money. More often, though, it is smaller (though not less significant) gifts, of food or toys for the kids or clothes. The gifts have always come just when we needed them, when we were most desperate for a sign that God was still holding us in the palm of His hand.

It's been my hope, through all of this, that God would be given glory for any beautiful thing that comes out of these struggles. I consider all of my children gifts from God, but Doug especially because he was born a month after we had filed for bankruptcy. I don't think there was any better way for God to show us hope than with the birth of our beautiful, crazy boy. This latest gift, then, is all about God. It's not about the person who gifted it. I am not obligated to pay them back, to give an accounting of how I've spent each dime. As it is a gift from God, I am beholden to God about it. I don't have to seek these people out and gush about how wonderful they are; that's not the point of the gift. They don't want me to feel tied to them inexplicably. They don't want me to thank them--they want me to give thanks to God, which is upon whom I will heap the thanks.

Friends, please know that this doesn't solve all our problems. I am not seeing this as the final provision or the resolution of this season of our life. Rather, I see it as further affirmation that God has a plan for our lives. His hand of provision is ever-present, tangible and real. It's not empty words in an old book--it is alive and well, living in the hearts of the people around me who, like me, are Christ-followers in a broken world.

A month ago, things were about the same but our pockets were a bit more padded. This gift would have been just as remarkable back then, but receiving it tonight made it so much easier to see that the gift came straight from God. This doesn't completely assuage my guilt about not doing my bible study homework, but obviously God knew my heart well enough to know that I'd get the gift at the right time.

Kevin Hart was on Conan a while back. He was speaking about his mother, who has supported him wholly in his dream to become a comedian. She told him she would pay for his rent for the first year he was in L.A. Before he left her house, she gave him a Bible. Every month, he would call her and ask her where the rent check was. She would ask if he had been reading his Bible. "Yes," he would say, "but mom, I need that rent check." She just kept telling him to read his Bible. He was so frustrated and fell behind in paying his rent. After a few months of this, he was very close to being evicted. He finally sat down and opened the Bible, only to find that his mom had tucked the rent checks into different pages of the Bible. 

This story takes on such new meaning to me. I have been pleading with God lately, mostly that he would provide the right job and the right conditions for Brian. All along, the answer has always been to study His word more. I am hopeful that I am able to finish strong with this study. I feel a renewed sense of energy and faith in God. I don't know any more of His plan than I did 4 hours ago, when I found the gift. I do, however, have affirmation that God knows the plan and has my family firmly gripped in his powerful hands. 

Please continue to pray for Brian's job search. I will remain hopeful that the right job is out there. God's timing is always perfect, always. He is so good to us.