“Peace is a fruit of the Spirit not a by-product of
accumulated wealth.” Andy Stanley
The past 6 months or so have truly been a journey of trust
for me. I moved across the country in January and once again found myself
having to start over in a new place.
A new city .
New church.
New people.
New job.
This new city
has proven difficult to my navigationally challenged self. It will be a while
before I feel truly comfortable sailing the seas in a big city. But, that’s why
we have Google Maps, right?
The new church was an easy choice. I visited only one, since
it came so highly recommended by my sister. I joined soon after my move.
Having new people has proven mildly challenging. It’s hard
not to feel like you don’t know anyone when your church has 700 people.
However, I remind myself that relationships take time to develop, and that I
can’t expect to really know all 700. In the meantime, I have been blessed to be
able to get to know my family better.
A new job has been difficult to wait for. I filled out
hundreds of applications over several months. I did a small bit of subbing (which
ended when I decided the money was not worth the abuses I found there).
Otherwise, I had no luck on the job front.
The money I had was dwindling.
Honestly, the process of applying was stressful. The
depleted resources felt like walls closing in on me. (insert Star Wars garbage
compactor here) Yet, through it all, I maintained my firm faith that God’s
timing is perfect. Although I didn’t particularly enjoy it, I understood that
my waiting was there to teach me something.
As it turns out, my arrival in this new place and my availability
was well timed to help out my family in a time of need. And later my position
was such that they were able to help me out as well with living costs. I have
been so blessed by God’s divine orchestration in our circumstances.
Like the widow the prophet Elijah stayed with, I was in
famine. I had no income, and I was scraping the bottom of my jug. More than
once I contemplated homelessness. I know God will supply all my needs, and I am
far better off than most, but I still found myself scraping out the last oil
and grain for a final meal.
You know what? My finances ran out. I faced bills, which my
bank account couldn’t support. All I had left was $3.44.
Yet, I didn’t end up living under a bridge after all. You
see, I thought that my bank account was my jug of oil. It seems kinda silly to
me now that I was relying on that too much, when I should’ve been relying on
God to care for me. I wanted Him to help me get more money so that I could
support myself. Instead, God sent a clear message that HE will support me. My
parents and my sister pitched in to get me to the end of this long race. My jug
of resources wasn’t just my bank account. It didn’t just include what I had
access to. My jug includes all that God has access to: all of HIS resources.
God came in famine, and He got me through it. I go in day by
day and scrape out enough, and I know that my cup truly runs over.
I still owe 7 or more different people and organizations for
my education, medical bills, housing, car, insurance, etc., but I have a job
now. The rain is coming, and the famine will soon pass.
I have only $3.44 in my bank account,
But Friday is payday.
