I often reach points in my everyday life where I think my doubt has run its course and that I’m doing a great job of trusting God with my life. Consequently, these moments usually coincide with times where I believe I have everything under control “thanks to God” (but really thanks to my own competence). Then life throws a huge curveball at me and I’m dazed and struggling to figure out where the ball is.
Many of you might know that I recently quit half of my job, leaving me working part time and much, much happier. It took a lot of trust in God (and also much trust in my own personal financial situation) to make that decision. This larger trust in my bank account than in God’s promise to provide led me to a place of false comfort in myself rather than in Him. Meaning that while I said and acted as if I believed that God would provide, really I believed in my own back-up plan.
Needless to say, now I’m facing an unforeseen financial burden and took it with much panic and little grace because my faith was in the wrong place.
I’m reminded of this parable (aptly called the Parable of the Rich Fool):
And [Jesus] told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’
“Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’
“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’
“This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.” Luke 16:13-21 (NIV)
I don’t know if I’m rich, but I’m definitely a fool.
It’s so much easier to “trust” God “with my life” when I can see the stores of fruit I have prepared. It is nearly impossible to trust God with my life when the wolf of the world claims those fruit stores as its own, leaving me with two choices: cry alone, or cry out to God.
I should mention that my situation is not dire and is completely manageable. It’s just not a place that I expected, or one where I wanted to be. It is also a largely uncomfortable reminder of my own personal pride and often waning level of faith in the Provider. I guess I’m taking it more like a tantrum-prone toddler, with fists clenched tight and face scrunched in a scowl. “I don’t wanna.”
I don’t wanna pay this extra fee.
I don’t wanna deal with that extra burden.
I don’t wanna spend my money there.
I wanna spend it here.
I want this, not that.
Why is this happening to me?
The more honest I am about the thoughts in my head, the more I realize that maybe I never graduated from the terrible twos. Sorry, Mom.
My guess is of all the things we say that we entrust to God, finances is probably last on the list, if it even makes the cut. But God tells us constantly that He will provide for us. Where we go wrong is having an idea of what that provision should be, and then expecting that rather than seeing what He does provide. I have so much to be grateful for, yet here I am complaining because I can’t drink as much Starbucks for the next few months. When God tells us He will provide for us, I’m almost certain that His idea of financial provision is completely different from mine. And probably different from yours.