My wife, Kelly, woke me up around 5:30 Christmas morning. She turned on my bedside lamp and sets down a strong, black cup of coffee. I grunt, “It’s too early.”
I used to be a morning person. In college, a classmate nicknamed me “Early Riser.” As my health has deteriorated over the years, however, I’m no longer a morning person. I’m not a night owl, either. Each morning I awake with pain, muscle fatigue, and mental fog. It usually dissipates to a manageable level by late morning. I then have about 6 good hours in me for the day. I believe God will heal me one day. Until then, I praise Him for coffee.
I sit up and begin watching my wife scurry around. She’s busy getting dressed, fixing her hair, and packing her bag. She cleaned our house, unloaded the dishwasher, and packed our boys’ suitcase the night before.
We’ll leave town as soon as the boys each open their one present from Santa. I finish sipping my coffee in about 40 minutes and slowly get out of bed. But I move at a snail’s pace.
For some reason I’ll never understand, my wife believes a 32-year-old man should pack his own suitcase. She’s already packed for 3 people. What’s one more suitcase? So… I pack my suitcase and set it by the garage door.
Our boys awake at 7:00. They each have a gift from Santa in front of the fireplace. My wife shopped online and in stores until she found the perfect gift for each of them.
Kelly makes trips in and out of the cold garage to pack up our minivan [correction–her minivan– I also now drive a minivan, but we won’t talk about that].
She packs everything you could imagine: toys for our 1-year-old, our 4-year-old’s new bicycle, his helmet, a new wagon from my parents, snacks, entertainment for the car ride, new Christmas toys, older standby toys, toys to play inside, toys to play outside, pillows, medicine if either boy gets sick, warm-weather clothes, cold weather clothes, jackets, hats, mittens, spare shoes just if one pair gets wet, stuffed animals, sound machines, baby monitors, spare pacifiers, baby soap, toothbrushes, children’s toothpaste, hair combs, sippy cups for milk, sippy cups for water. You name it, Mama packed it.
All the while, I sit at the table with our boys to make sure they both eat their breakfast. What would this family do without me? 😉
Closed. Kind of?
Almost a year ago, our church officially closed. We entered into this weird transitional time. The 501c3 still exists and owns the facility, but the public “face” of the church closed. Our new church, Renovation Community, meets each week and organizes a massive summer day camp and feeding program. But our “public church” won’t officially launch until fall 2018. Our leadership team meets with a “church planting” coach to help us plan out our new church.
We had a planning meeting Saturday, December 2. At one point, our treasurer shared some financial details with me. Massive facility expenses (utilities from an old inefficient building, property insurance, large repairs, etc) and my salary have forced us to spend more than we receive for several months. We were quickly eating away at our savings. Renting our facilities to multiple other groups definitely helps with the expenses, but we charge all of those groups very little rent. We want to bless them with a low rent that they can’t get anywhere else. Should we raise everyone’s rent? That would help us. But would it hurt the other congregations?
Ending One Journey
Two days after seeing that financial data, I had a phone call with my boss from another job. In October 2010 Kelly and I began working with a Christian non-profit that places teams in apartment communities. We no longer live in an apartment, but I’ve supervised other teams for several years.
I haven’t been a good supervisor. I just haven’t had time to work a second job. But my gracious boss kept paying me $500 each month even though I couldn’t keep up with the work.
In recent months, however, organization has grown in other markets. We’ve launched in multiple new cities. It was finally time to reallocate my salary towards hiring a supervisor for this new growth. My salary would end December 31. In 2018 my family would lose $6,000, before taxes, this job had provided. My 7+ year journey with this great non-profit was ending.
What should we do? Should I ask our church for a pay raise? A raise would help our family. But how would that loss of budget money hurt our church‘s ability to help others? Should I find another job? Income from a second job might help our family’s budget, but how might it hinder me in performing church and family responsibilities?
My auto-immune disorders prevent me from overworking like other 32-year-old men might; I soon end up sick in bed (maybe that’s a blessing). So taking on a second job probably won’t end well for me.
Since our large house, internet, and utilities are provided by the church, our expenses are much lower than the average family’s. And, if you’ve read my Facebook wall, you’ve seen countless stories of surprise financial gifts from others. I also receive a monthly housing allowance, and get some unique tax breaks as clergy. It’s not like we live as paupers. But our taxable wages are still below the federal poverty line for a family our size. So a $6,000 annual loss of income still felt a little scary. Still, we were trusting God to provide. We didn’t tell anyone, but we definitely talked to God about it.
To top it off, we’d just paid cash for a new minivan. We’d been saving for 2 years. God gave us a miraculous deal but, still…that chunk of cash was now gone.
Gifts
Five days after hearing I’d lose my second job, I was speaking at another church. An adult Sunday school class church had scheduled me to speak at their class Christmas party. I shared how God had worked in our church and in my heart (A few days later, I turned this message into a blog post – 15-passenger sanctuary). For weeks, the class had collected a love offering for us. They presented us with a $400 check.
A week later, I opened a small box – hidden away among some other items – it was a $2,000 check from family members.
A few days later, a church member stopped by the Parsonage (the house on church property) where we live to deliver $100. And couple we haven’t seen in over a year also dropped by to deliver a Christmas card with $100.
Almost every day in December, we also received Christmas cards from sweet friends around the country. Many cards included surprise checks to our family. $25. $50. $100. $200. $250. On Christmas Eve, our dear church family surprised us with a $400 Christmas bonus.
To Great-Grandmother’s House We Go
We back out of the garage at 8:30 Christmas morning and begin our 5 hour drive to see family. I finally wake up after a couple of hours of driving. As we get ready for bed that night, Kelly found a small card in her purse. Kelly unknowingly received it almost two weeks earlier, when a friend hid it away inside another gift. As Kelly opened the card, she found a $3,000 check to our family. These same dear friends surprised us with a $2,000 check two years ago.
The following day I receive a message on social media from people who have known me since birth. They asked for Renovation Community’s mailing address. Their letter arrived in the mail December 29. I opened it to find a $400 check for my family and a $14,000.00 check for our church. Another $19.00, and their donation would have equaled my entire taxable church salary in 2017!
On December 4, we learned I was losing a job that paid me $6,000.
By December 29, God had miraculously replaced (and surpassed) that income through surprise gifts from generous friends.
In 25 days, we received $6,500.00
God provides like Mama packs your bags.
You didn’t see her pack it. But when you suddenly need it along the journey, it’s there.
Our 4-year-old son paid no attention to what Mama packed in his suitcase. As our one-year-old grows, he won’t care either. The boys continued their evening and following morning as little boys and girls should on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. They played with new toys, excitedly prepared cookies and milk for Santa’s arrival, took baths, put on pajamas, went to sleep, and woke up the next morning reveling in the magic of Christmas morning. Well, at least our 4-year-old reveled in the magic. Our 1-year-old reveled in torn wrapping paper and cardboard boxes.
They gave no consideration to what Mama packed. No doubt entered their minds about whether Mama would remember to pack their necessities. They weren’t hovering over Mama while she packed, coaching her on all the important items. In fact, our 4-year-old only cares about a few unnecessary items…
“Don’t forget the wagon Meemom and GDad gave us!” “Don’t forget my new bicycle with training wheels!”
Ours boys didn’t make a backup plan, in case we arrived at our destination only to find out Mama failed to bring their favorite stuffed animal, or toothbrush. They didn’t waste mental energy on where to buy a jacket, in case Mama forgot to pack theirs. Surely, this is what it means to have faith like a child
In Matthew 7 Jesus uses a rabbinic teaching method. It’s the “if this (is true), then how much more is that true” statement. We read him use this type of statement a few times in the Gospels.
In Matthew 7 the teaching makes an analogy with earthly parents and our Heavenly Father. If earthly mothers and fathers “know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”
It was unusually cold once we arrived in Houston.
What did our 4-year-old do when he wanted his jacket?
“Mama, where’s my jacket?”
What about when he wanted to ride his new bike?”
“Can you please get my new bike from the van?”
What about when he’s thirsty and wants his favorite cup?
“Mama, can I please have my drink?”
Once we reached our destination, our oldest son knew Mama had packed whatever he needed. He didn’t watch her pack all these items because he knew Mama wouldn’t forget them. He has faith in Mama.
Packing for Eternity
When our GPS said we were 15 minutes away from great-grandma’s house, my wife began some more packing. She’s especially brilliant at it. Over and over, she packs kindness and gratitude into our 4-year-old’s heart.
My wife understands that the Heart, like any other suitcase tidily packed by human hands, doesn’t stay tidy for long. The items are soon strewn around the floor with dirty clothes heaped in a pile. So, too, the kindness and gratitude she carefully packs in our son’s heart must regularly be tidied, re-folded, and packed again.
“Now, a lot of people worked really hard to buy you Christmas presents. So what are you going to say when you open your presents?”
“What if you open a present that someone else already gave you? Are you going to say, ‘I already have that!’?”
“Why do we give presents at Christmas, anyway?”
Diaper cream, jackets, socks, and toys. Yes, we need all these items along the journey. But Mama understands what she packs into our sons’ hearts holds eternal significance.
For weeks this blog post’s title kept floating in my head. The lens through which I view my journey with God is now tinted with new color from this phrase… God truly provides for your life, “like Mama packs your bags.”
Trusting God to Provide
No matter how much Life surprises me with unexpected “weather,” God packed a warm jacket. I need only ask him for it.
Am I hungry? He’s packed food to nourish my body but also has bread from Heaven to nourish my soul.
Do I want to play? He lovingly provides toys with which I can play under his safe supervision, toys that bring no regret or harm to me, or anyone else. And how often I’m concerned with my new toys while He’s trying to pack eternal truths deep in my heart. But that’s a post for another day.
Do I need something that costs money? He is able to pay.
Am I sick? My Heavenly Father packed just the thing to bring healing. Even if the medicine is bitter going down, he would never administer anything that doesn’t ultimately bring wholeness and Life.
Am I sick with sin, with a sinful heart turned in on itself, selfishly thinking of my own desires before anything else? He packed the remedy to that problem 2000 years ago when he bore my sins on the cross. “And by his wounds, I have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). That, friends, is Good News.
Now, off to buy Mama a coffee.
