The Financial Gush

As of late, I have a bad habit of getting my heart set on things. Many times during the last few weeks I have had to slap my forehead and quote Corrie TenBoom, "Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open." I was reminded of this when our associate pastor told us that the older generation (65 years plus) tends to handle change in the church the best. I must say this is not necessarily true. Those who handle change the best are those who have a very loose grasp on the things of this world. The worshippers, the faithful, the unshakably joyful and uncomplaining are those who can fall on their knees regardless of the color of the carpet, and who can lift their eyes up regardless of whether they see stained glass, drywall, or prison bars. My split knuckles are turning white as I grasp at fistfuls of shadows.

While there are more serious cases, the most prevalent heart-setting event of late involves Hawaii. And, oh-yes, I can get my grubby little mitts around Hawaii, and make it all mine.

Justin has been in school for almost three years. He started one month after Noah was born. Since then we have not gone on vacation; we have not even left this valley. The closest I got to leaving was the sojourning with the bedbugs. While that was all manner of funsies, it's not really the same as getting on a plane, laying on a beach, and not having little children begging you for answers all day. Allow me to clarify that I don't think I deserve a vacation, but when a rather blessed tax return arrived, I felt the ocean calling my name.

With Justin working for free at his clinicals and in class we have been bleeding about 300 dollars a month. We had planned for this when we decided this was how God was leading. We had a comfortable savings that the Lord of Grace allowed us to accumulate. The tax return was over and above, a surprise, a blessing, a wonder! And in my heart, a sign from on high. Aloha!

At the end of February I went to pay our mortgage, and there, smirking at me rather repugnantly, was a bill over two hundred and fifty dollars more than normal. Apparently, by some manner of Big Brother-ness, our insurance company deduced that our house is worth well more than what it really is. Due to granite counter tops and a bulldog, our premium jumped by almost two thousand dollars. The insurance lady was very understanding as to why I was on the verge of tears and offered to re-quote us a figure based on some questions. As she asked away, I felt the tug of my flesh, tempting me to engage in falsehood.

Insurance Lady: What kind of counter tops do you have?
Me: Brown
Insurance Lady: No, I mean what are they made out of?
Me: ... we don't have counter tops. I prepare food outside... on a rock... like a man.

Insurance Lady: Do you have a dog?
Me: How dare you suggest that any creature could own another creature!
Insurance Lady: What breed?
Me: Microscopic. Certainly not the kind that is pictured in every dog training book, next to the picture of the torn up couch and chewed-on dry wall.

Insurance Lady: What kind of flooring do you have:
Me: The kind that you can walk on.
Insurance Lady: And what kind is that?
Me: ...Not eggshells... Something much cheaper than eggshells... like dirt. That's right we sleep on the dirt... like a man ... (WHIMPER)

I of course said none of these untruthful things. I told her we have granite counter tops, and an Olde English Bulldog, and carpet and tile, and I really need to go to Hawaii, like, more than most, and if you could please just quote us a little less, I might not sob like a little child, who got her lolli taken away.

And then I prayed. As the words came out of my mouth I realized perhaps I am too marked by Firefly: "God, we got some local color happening here, a bit of mercy would not go amiss."

"Oh!" the Nice Insurance Lady exclaimed.
"What?" I asked, eager to receive the blessings I had requested.
"Well, that actually made your premium go up more. And we have to go with that figure."

... No good deed shall be left unpunished.

The Mean Insurance Lady (who I think sprouted horns as we were talking) said she could transfer me to a specialist, who might be able to work something out for me. Like a premium that also requires a kidney along with my arm and leg?

The specialist didn't get in touch with me for a few days, and we went through the same process and same questions again. And I displayed the same godliness... I wasn't happy about it, but I did it. Because my Savior died for me, and I believe that obedience is first, and maybe, sometimes, feelings are second. ... this does not make the whimpering any less.

That night Justin asked me to bring him his wallet. I chugged upstairs and retrieved it for him, where-upon he pulled out our debit card and paid some unknown entity $90. As he hung up the phone, in as submissive a voice and manner as I could muster, I asked to whom we just paid my Hawaii room deposit. Turns out that because Justin is packing in more credits, his loans do not cover his tuition. We now get to pay another $90 a month to his school.

So what was a slow bleed of our finances has hemorrhaged into a gushing wound. We are now bleeding over double what we were before. The wise part of me (small and stifled as it may be) is so grateful that we got a tax return so we can continue paying the mortgage, covering bills, and feeding our children. My God is the God who provides.

But my foolish little heart was set on oceans and sand and volcanoes and not being in this valley. So patiently I will continue to do what we have been called to do. I will loosen my fingers and allow Hawaii to breathe a little. And I will understand that one week abroad does not change my faith or my joy. My God has provided for our finances, and He provides more than enough for my heart as well.