What Difference Does the Color of my Collar Make?
Note: This is a long one…and a difficult one. I almost didn’t post this because it was just too personal for my liking. I don’t mind discussing any topic in the world except this one. But if I’m going to learn and grow, I have got to be bold and transparent, even when I don’t like it. Blah. However, I do mention the struggles of others in this blog, so if anyone I mention would rather this not be posted on the internet for all to see, just let me know.
It’s not an easy thing, being perpetually in financial stress. Always wondering how you’re going to make it-how you’re going to meet those obligations and what you’re going to have to sacrifice. And always thinking that people will judge you no matter what you do.
I should know.
I cannot say there has ever been a point in my life where I was comfortable with my financial situation. Even as a little kid, I worried about money. My parents were in full time ministry, a.k.a. full time financial hardship. My sisters have told me when they were younger they didn’t really think about the fact that we didn‘t have a lot of money. But I noticed. I think it was because two of my closest friends were pretty well off. Their houses were beautiful, they always had nice clothes and the coolest book bags and toys and hair accessories and…you name it. And there were times when they pointed out to me that I had less. They were just children of course and probably didn’t know any better. I don’t want to paint them as cruel people. And I have never really been one to remember offenses forever. But some of those money-related comments have stuck with me. Those situations made me feel like having less was something to be ashamed of. A fault. I began to believe they were better than I was because they had money.
And then we moved to Ohio, where it was so much worse. We moved from a small town to a white collar city. It seemed like everyone was rich. My new friends’ houses made my old friends’ houses look like shacks. Before I moved to Ohio, I had never heard of stores like Express, Gap, The Limited, etc. I didn’t even know Target or Lazarus. I knew Wal-Mart, but suddenly shopping there seemed like such a horrible thing to do. My new friends here were kind though. We were adolescents, so they new better than to point out that I had less. But by this point, they didn’t need to tell me, I was well aware. But probably what I noticed most of all was the feeling I got that struggling financially was a direct result of sin. The vast majority of those I knew viewed debt as a major shortcoming in a Christian’s life.
My heart has always gone out to my parents, whom I saw face incredible financial strain when I was young. My dad pastored a small church for 21 years. They redefined “barely scraping by”. But on top of a very small salary and very few benefits, my parents had a burden for our education. They felt God’s call to put us in a private Christian school, even though it would cost them everything. They sacrificed and worked long extra hours and went into debt to make this happen, but by the grace of God, all three of their children spent every day of their formal education in a school that started the day with prayer and focused every subject on Christ. Others may view this as failure, because they had to borrow money to make it happen. But in my eyes, it was a smashing success. They accomplished their goal. I am eternally thankful for their difficult choices. I know it went beyond just debt for them too. Small churches have a way of making private family matters a public topic of discussion. I have a vivid memory of someone speaking to my father in front of the whole congregation (okay, it was like 20 people, but still) during a church business meeting, telling him that he was making a mistake by sending us to a Christian school. Her kids went to public school and they were fine. They were doing God’s work and being witnesses. She felt that since she gave to the church, and the church paid dad, that she had the right to decide how he spent his money. I still cannot believe that this woman thought she was perfectly within her rights to berate my father in front of his church, not to mention his children. My sisters were so upset they had to leave. I, always the stoic one, would not shed a tear, but I remember feeling incredibly angry. I definitely wanted to slap her right then and there. I’m sure there were a few others who wouldn’t have minded if I did. But my dad handled it perfectly. He let her speak, but did not change his mind. God must have given him an extra dose of patience that evening.
And now it’s my turn to face those difficult choices and deal with the consequences of debt and judgment. My husband and I have chosen that I should be a stay at home mom. We’ve chosen to home school our kids, at least for their first few years of education. These decisions are our rights. And they are incredible sacrifices, especially while we are facing the most difficult financial year of our marriage. Others would say that I don’t have the luxury of being a stay at home mom or home schooling because we have no money. Just like people assumed that my parents shouldn’t send us to Christian school. But these things aren’t “luxuries.” They are commitments. Decisions made between a couple and God because of burdens laid on their hearts. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with a mom working, or with kids going to public schools. But I believe firmly that God lays burdens on people’s hearts for specific reasons. God wants to protect my children from something that may not affect another child. I don’t know what it is, but I will follow. Just as I would expect another parent to follow if God laid on their heart to send their kids to a public school.
But commitments require sacrifice, and a sacrifice isn’t a sacrifice unless it hurts. And we are hurting. Today’s economy has taken its toll on us. I feel bad for my husband because he is the hardest worker I have ever known. He truly cares about his company and following his bosses’ leadership. He has no qualms about working long hours, not getting sick days, not taking vacations. I know his superiors appreciate him. They do what they can to pay him well. But this is a two income country. We always come up short. Yes, we’ve made financial mistakes. We went through a period of greed, of thinking looking like we were doing okay was more important than actually being okay. But we worked through that. And for the most part, our debts aren’t from materialism, they’re from trying to survive.
It’s hard for me to even openly admit that we have debt. There is such a stigma associated with it in Christian circles. Credit cards are evil and sinful. If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it. But these answers don’t always work in real life. What if the thing “you can’t have” is food for your kids, test strips for your glucose meter, gas to get your car to work? It isn’t so easy to say no to these things when the bank account does.
We’ve made the commitment to get out of debt. We’ve cut back quite a bit. We no longer have cable, a home phone, trips to Florida or Michigan to visit family. Seth’s getting a second job, and I’m looking for something I can do from home after the kids go to bed. We’re thinking of selling one of our cars, which I’m not really sure how that’s going to work with the whole second job thing. We had been cutting way back on groceries, but with Seth being a diabetic, we just can’t do that any more. Healthy food costs a lot more than the unhealthy stuff, but we’re eating out a lot less. Christmas will be much more of a “Little House on the Prairie” deal this year--not looking forward to telling extended family that we just can’t do extra gifts. We’re thinking of getting crazy and selling some of our furniture. We really want to attack the debt because we hate it so much. But at the same time, we’re struggling more than ever.
But I must say, that these struggles throughout my life have taught me lessons of great value. I have seen the generosity of God’s people at work. I remember getting boxes of groceries and bags of clothes from some of the dear people in our little church in Oglesby. I have seen God provide in ways I couldn’t have guessed--and I’m trying to have faith that He will always do so. I have learned that I don’t want a big nice new house. I’m really starting to love my little old dingy one, not to mention our kind neighbors that are just as poor as we are. And I’m learning compassion. I saw a man walking today who was wearing an interesting ensemble, and I couldn’t help but notice that the brown shoes he wore were rather feminine. There was a time when I would have thought “oh, that’s nice” and made fun of his shoes to myself. But today my first thought was that man probably has no choice but to wear those shoes. He’s probably in a boat very similar to my own. It’s either weird shoes or no shoes for him.
Let me assure you that all of this rambling is not to make people feel sorry for me. I don’t want sympathy or hand outs. I know there are people in far worse situations than my own who suffer from deeper heartache than I’ll ever know. No, this is more like therapy. When I wasn’t acknowledging the debt, I couldn’t attack it effectively. There is no room for pride in this battle. I cannot control what other people think of my decisions, but I can control how I think of them. I can make commitments and trust God to take care of the rest. I can survive these years of hardship. My parents made it. So will I.
I know this because I heard God speak it to me Himself. I was driving home from getting groceries, which for me is a weekly desperate prayer meeting. The receipt from grocery shopping always makes my worries swell, the panic rise in my thoughts. So, on the drive home, I’m usually panic-praying, begging God to helps us get through this. I heard the voice in my head as surely as it had been spoken aloud. “It will not always be like this, My child.” I instantly felt a peace. God knew our troubles. God has forgiven our mistakes. God will make a way.
And most importantly, I am His child. I am wealthy beyond imagination.
It’s not an easy thing, being perpetually in financial stress. Always wondering how you’re going to make it-how you’re going to meet those obligations and what you’re going to have to sacrifice. And always thinking that people will judge you no matter what you do.
I should know.
I cannot say there has ever been a point in my life where I was comfortable with my financial situation. Even as a little kid, I worried about money. My parents were in full time ministry, a.k.a. full time financial hardship. My sisters have told me when they were younger they didn’t really think about the fact that we didn‘t have a lot of money. But I noticed. I think it was because two of my closest friends were pretty well off. Their houses were beautiful, they always had nice clothes and the coolest book bags and toys and hair accessories and…you name it. And there were times when they pointed out to me that I had less. They were just children of course and probably didn’t know any better. I don’t want to paint them as cruel people. And I have never really been one to remember offenses forever. But some of those money-related comments have stuck with me. Those situations made me feel like having less was something to be ashamed of. A fault. I began to believe they were better than I was because they had money.
And then we moved to Ohio, where it was so much worse. We moved from a small town to a white collar city. It seemed like everyone was rich. My new friends’ houses made my old friends’ houses look like shacks. Before I moved to Ohio, I had never heard of stores like Express, Gap, The Limited, etc. I didn’t even know Target or Lazarus. I knew Wal-Mart, but suddenly shopping there seemed like such a horrible thing to do. My new friends here were kind though. We were adolescents, so they new better than to point out that I had less. But by this point, they didn’t need to tell me, I was well aware. But probably what I noticed most of all was the feeling I got that struggling financially was a direct result of sin. The vast majority of those I knew viewed debt as a major shortcoming in a Christian’s life.
My heart has always gone out to my parents, whom I saw face incredible financial strain when I was young. My dad pastored a small church for 21 years. They redefined “barely scraping by”. But on top of a very small salary and very few benefits, my parents had a burden for our education. They felt God’s call to put us in a private Christian school, even though it would cost them everything. They sacrificed and worked long extra hours and went into debt to make this happen, but by the grace of God, all three of their children spent every day of their formal education in a school that started the day with prayer and focused every subject on Christ. Others may view this as failure, because they had to borrow money to make it happen. But in my eyes, it was a smashing success. They accomplished their goal. I am eternally thankful for their difficult choices. I know it went beyond just debt for them too. Small churches have a way of making private family matters a public topic of discussion. I have a vivid memory of someone speaking to my father in front of the whole congregation (okay, it was like 20 people, but still) during a church business meeting, telling him that he was making a mistake by sending us to a Christian school. Her kids went to public school and they were fine. They were doing God’s work and being witnesses. She felt that since she gave to the church, and the church paid dad, that she had the right to decide how he spent his money. I still cannot believe that this woman thought she was perfectly within her rights to berate my father in front of his church, not to mention his children. My sisters were so upset they had to leave. I, always the stoic one, would not shed a tear, but I remember feeling incredibly angry. I definitely wanted to slap her right then and there. I’m sure there were a few others who wouldn’t have minded if I did. But my dad handled it perfectly. He let her speak, but did not change his mind. God must have given him an extra dose of patience that evening.
And now it’s my turn to face those difficult choices and deal with the consequences of debt and judgment. My husband and I have chosen that I should be a stay at home mom. We’ve chosen to home school our kids, at least for their first few years of education. These decisions are our rights. And they are incredible sacrifices, especially while we are facing the most difficult financial year of our marriage. Others would say that I don’t have the luxury of being a stay at home mom or home schooling because we have no money. Just like people assumed that my parents shouldn’t send us to Christian school. But these things aren’t “luxuries.” They are commitments. Decisions made between a couple and God because of burdens laid on their hearts. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with a mom working, or with kids going to public schools. But I believe firmly that God lays burdens on people’s hearts for specific reasons. God wants to protect my children from something that may not affect another child. I don’t know what it is, but I will follow. Just as I would expect another parent to follow if God laid on their heart to send their kids to a public school.
But commitments require sacrifice, and a sacrifice isn’t a sacrifice unless it hurts. And we are hurting. Today’s economy has taken its toll on us. I feel bad for my husband because he is the hardest worker I have ever known. He truly cares about his company and following his bosses’ leadership. He has no qualms about working long hours, not getting sick days, not taking vacations. I know his superiors appreciate him. They do what they can to pay him well. But this is a two income country. We always come up short. Yes, we’ve made financial mistakes. We went through a period of greed, of thinking looking like we were doing okay was more important than actually being okay. But we worked through that. And for the most part, our debts aren’t from materialism, they’re from trying to survive.
It’s hard for me to even openly admit that we have debt. There is such a stigma associated with it in Christian circles. Credit cards are evil and sinful. If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it. But these answers don’t always work in real life. What if the thing “you can’t have” is food for your kids, test strips for your glucose meter, gas to get your car to work? It isn’t so easy to say no to these things when the bank account does.
We’ve made the commitment to get out of debt. We’ve cut back quite a bit. We no longer have cable, a home phone, trips to Florida or Michigan to visit family. Seth’s getting a second job, and I’m looking for something I can do from home after the kids go to bed. We’re thinking of selling one of our cars, which I’m not really sure how that’s going to work with the whole second job thing. We had been cutting way back on groceries, but with Seth being a diabetic, we just can’t do that any more. Healthy food costs a lot more than the unhealthy stuff, but we’re eating out a lot less. Christmas will be much more of a “Little House on the Prairie” deal this year--not looking forward to telling extended family that we just can’t do extra gifts. We’re thinking of getting crazy and selling some of our furniture. We really want to attack the debt because we hate it so much. But at the same time, we’re struggling more than ever.
But I must say, that these struggles throughout my life have taught me lessons of great value. I have seen the generosity of God’s people at work. I remember getting boxes of groceries and bags of clothes from some of the dear people in our little church in Oglesby. I have seen God provide in ways I couldn’t have guessed--and I’m trying to have faith that He will always do so. I have learned that I don’t want a big nice new house. I’m really starting to love my little old dingy one, not to mention our kind neighbors that are just as poor as we are. And I’m learning compassion. I saw a man walking today who was wearing an interesting ensemble, and I couldn’t help but notice that the brown shoes he wore were rather feminine. There was a time when I would have thought “oh, that’s nice” and made fun of his shoes to myself. But today my first thought was that man probably has no choice but to wear those shoes. He’s probably in a boat very similar to my own. It’s either weird shoes or no shoes for him.
Let me assure you that all of this rambling is not to make people feel sorry for me. I don’t want sympathy or hand outs. I know there are people in far worse situations than my own who suffer from deeper heartache than I’ll ever know. No, this is more like therapy. When I wasn’t acknowledging the debt, I couldn’t attack it effectively. There is no room for pride in this battle. I cannot control what other people think of my decisions, but I can control how I think of them. I can make commitments and trust God to take care of the rest. I can survive these years of hardship. My parents made it. So will I.
I know this because I heard God speak it to me Himself. I was driving home from getting groceries, which for me is a weekly desperate prayer meeting. The receipt from grocery shopping always makes my worries swell, the panic rise in my thoughts. So, on the drive home, I’m usually panic-praying, begging God to helps us get through this. I heard the voice in my head as surely as it had been spoken aloud. “It will not always be like this, My child.” I instantly felt a peace. God knew our troubles. God has forgiven our mistakes. God will make a way.
And most importantly, I am His child. I am wealthy beyond imagination.
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