Church is over, so I head to Target in Viera. I know that I
am not really in the best area to find someone who needs the money more than I
still do, but I have to try. I feel like I might be judged if I don’t give it away
before the next meeting. The preacher recently taught the parable where the
third servant hid the money in the ground rather than using it, and I feel like
someone might compare me to that servant and say that I am wasting money,
wasting time. Unaware that I am creating my own stress, fears and worries swamp me, and I think, maybe I shouldn’t be trusted with the money after all? All I have
to do is walk up to someone and give it to them, pay for their groceries, or
buy their gas.
Lexi points out someone, and I again walk the aisles and
hover near the cash registers. Nothing but families with two parents, single
women holding a cup of Starbucks coffee, or men buying a few items. No one that
feels right for me to give it to.
I notice
that everyone, like I normally do, is moving so quickly. Rush up to the
counter, pile everything on the conveyor belt, load the bags into the cart,
swipe the card, rush away. I don’t see anyone using cash, and no one pauses
long enough for me to smile or say hi.
I don’t want to simply use the money and move on. I want it
to mean something. I want to know that it has blessed someone. I want to feel
not just the money but also the results. Is that part of the lesson?! We rush
through life, swiping our life away on all of these things that we don’t always
use and definitely don’t take the time to appreciate. However, when we slow
down and use cash and take our time, we can connect with others as well as
consider what we are buying, why we are buying it, and what it will bring us.
We can live in a state of appreciation.
When I received my deposit earlier in the week, I paid my
bills and then wrote myself a check with the left over money for food and gas.
I took the cash and placed it in the Dave Ramsey envelopes, and I have to say
that I definitely feel the money more. In past weeks, I would have spent almost
all of the money over the weekend and then been lost and even more anxious the
rest of the time until the next pay day. This time, I was intensely conscious
of how much cash I had left in my gas and food envelope, and I still have what
I intended to save for next week, which helps me not feel so stressed and
scared.
Just this
week a devotional passage encouraged me to follow God’s plan, and on the radio,
Chris Tomlin sang:
Where You
go, I'll go
Where You
stay, I'll stay
When You
move, I'll move
I will
follow You
Who You
love, I'll love
How You
serve I'll serve
If this
life I lose, I will follow You
I will
follow You
I want to
scream: I am here; I am listening; please
show me the way. What do you want me to do, God?! Who should I give this money
to? Where should I live? What job should I have? Why is my life still so far
down the pit? Why do I feel like I am still stagnating in so many ways?! What
do you want from me?!
Like Styx,
I have questions and pray for signs:
I close my
eyes and know there's peace
In a world so
filled with hatred
That I wake
up each morning and turn on the news
To find we've
so far to go
And I keep on
hoping for a sign
So afraid I
just won't know
Show me the
way, show me the way
Bring me
tonight to the mountain
And take my
confusion away
And show me
the way
When I
arrive for the Momentum meeting this week, I am still feeling raw. I have been
entrusted with money and a task, and I have failed. I feel like I am “waiting
for Godot”—story of my life.
In his two-act absurdist play, Samuel Beckett utterly
describes how I have felt too many times in my life: feeling stuck, waiting for
someone or something that will never come, having an inability to act for
whatever reason, being sure that tomorrow will bring a better day only to have
more of the same. The feeling is like having a bare thread of hope in a
hopeless situation and a desolate world.
I am glad to get through the meeting without being forced to
metaphorically wear the scarlet letter and happy that I still have time to reevaluate and find
the person I am meant to bless with this cash.
When I
told my girls about this new adventure, Laina shared a story that her service
learning teacher recently relayed about helping a man who was offering
portraits for a little grocery money in the parking lot of a pizza place
because he had just moved down here and started a new job and had two weeks
before payday. After this man drew a portrait of the teacher’s son, they said
thanks but we don’t have any cash and drove home. Once there, the son said that
he wanted to give the man something, so they drove back and gave him five
dollars and thirty cents, the exact amount of money to buy a pizza right then.
The man started crying because he was so touched by their kindness. That’s what
I want: to touch someone with kindness and begin weaving a stronger string of
hope.
My uncle also
told me a story about how he and his young adult siblings each received a $100
bill from their Aunt Clarice. “Spend it on something special,” she said. So he
hunted and searched and waited. Nothing seemed special enough, big enough,
lasting enough, so he finally stuck the bill in his Bible and waited. Decades
later, he left the chaos and excitement of New York City and moved back to
family and the Mid-west. A few years later, finally, he knew what to do with
his $100 bill when he heard his contractor complaining about a renter, a single
mother, who wasn’t paying rent. This was just before Christmas, and he was
packaging up our family’s homemade apple butter to share with his neighbors.
So, he added a Christmas card with the $100 bill and took it to the single
mother. He knocked, handed her the gift, and returned home. Later, he received
a thank you card from the woman who shared that she had used the money for a
small Christmas tree and gifts for her sons.
Yes. Sometimes
waiting is the right thing to do. The important part is not to make waiting a
lifestyle choice. There are many times in my life when I waited for too long,
but there are also times when I took action and created a change that was
better. So patience is one of the lessons I am learning, and another is to
trust myself to know when to wait and when to act and to not worry that others
might judge my actions and/or inactions. Finally, I am remembering that God
does care and has a plan and is looking out for me, even if it doesn’t feel
like it sometimes. Even if I am complaining of too much conflict in my life. Even
if I would prefer that God not only give me a signed copy of the plan, but that
He also allow me to write in corrections and initial changes. But I do have
faith that His plan is the best for me, even if I don’t get an advanced preview
of it.
Speaking
of conflict, I recently read an article from the July/August 2013 issue of Poets & Writers where Dan Barden
asserts that conflict equals growth. He may be talking about fictional
characters, but it’s true of humans too. In “The Art of Conflict: Why Your Characters
Should Struggle,” Barden states:
Here’s the deal: Everything you want from
your life is the opposite of what you give to your characters. Your characters
should, more or less, always be having a very bad day. Why? Because that’s how
human beings grow.
…Conflict is what creates growth. Conflict is
what creates character. All forward movement is a product of conflict. All
meaning, in fact, is a product of conflict. [We] need to fight.
…What it’s like to be a human being: hard.
Like the man says, we’re all fighting a great battle. What narrative conflict
brings to the party is the possibility of growth in the face of
adversity—growth because we are faced with adversity. If there were nothing
more important to me than my leisure, if it didn’t want things, I’d still have
the values and self-discipline of a fourth grader. Fortunately for me, the
world kicks my [arse] every day…
I
agree. Life is hard, and conflict, like it or not, grows me. For now, I am
waiting, “waiting for Godot,” waiting for God.
