Tag Archives: spirituality

I’m a trust fund baby

Shocked?

Surprised I haven’t mentioned it before?

Well, okay–I’m not exactly a trust fund baby in the regular sense. My parents are certainly not rolling in piles upon piles of green ones.

But . . . I have a heavenly Father. A heavenly Father who actually owns the world and everything in it, sustains it, runs the show so to speak, is sovereign over it all, and has given me an inheritance.

“The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it . . .” (Psalm 24:1)

If your daddy owned the world, wouldn’t it be kind of silly to worry about your provision and the security of your future? Really silly, in fact?

How much more in the heavenly sense.

I’m a fool to worry about the future. Because all the countries . . . all the banks . . . all the money . . . all the companies . . . all the land . . . everyone . . . God is Lord of it all. So how can I doubt his power to provide for us?

And not only is he powerful, but he is good.

“Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:9-11)

I’ve had a hard time recently balancing mothering and work. How much longer can I last at my job? has been the question echoing in my heart the past month or two. And whether it’s a passing emotional phase or the beginning of what would be a huge transition for our family, how can I question that we’ll be okay if God leads my heart to quit my job and simply trust? It would make no sense from a worldly point of view. It’s not the financially savvy decision, which would be hard for me because I’ve almost always made the financially savvy decision. But from a heavenly point of view, my efforts to be “financially savvy” pale in comparison to a God who says:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:25-33)

I don’t want to be the “you of little faith” that Jesus talks about in this passage. In this time of wondering about the future, I want to be “she of great faith.” So this post is a rallying cry to my own heart. Have faith! Take heart! I’m God’s daughter, and he’s made me an heir to everything he has, along with Jesus. So I’m trusting.

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And then, I got slapped out of my grumpfest

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I had a fantasy yesterday morning. I thought there was a chance it could make sense. It involved buying a house here in Chicago. It made sense enough in my mind that I looked around on some real estate websites. I found a place I felt ready to launch into. I even decided where I would put the couch.

Then I talked to someone who I knew would have no problem bursting my bubble if the idea didn’t make sense.

Five minutes later, it was clear that it didn’t make sense. Because ultimately, even if things fell into place guaranteeing our presence in Chicago for 3 more years, that’s still not long enough to make buying a house worth it–we’d still just be paying off interest on our mortgage at that point!

It was like a sugar crash in my spirit.

Our lease is up for renewal soon. And we’ve enjoyed our apartment so much for the past almost 2 years–it’s the best apartment we’d ever lived in. But with a toddler, and dreams of another baby someday, I’ve been thinking of how luxurious a house with a finished basement would be–a space for Alice to run around like a wild thing when the long Chicago winters keep us inside for months. And a yard. I thought for so many years that I would never want a yard. I’m not interested in gardening, and owning a mower just sounds . . . well, like someone else’s life. But I didn’t realize that having a child who rejoices in the outdoors changes one’s desires. Bring on the mower!

And no downstairs neighbors with their parties . . . that would be nice too, which I especially think about in the middle of the night when our bedroom floor is vibrating with a strident bass line.

Undergrads . . . I was one, once.

And here’s the thing–nothing is wrong with these desires for a house of our own, as long as:

1) I’m patient

2) I’m thankful for what I have, rejoicing in all the blessings God has already given us

3) I hold loosely to these dreams, knowing that they may not be fulfilled on earth–but I have a heavenly hope! God is preparing a place for me, and that promise can give me the patience to wait beyond a lifetime.

The evening came, and I was lying on the couch in an emotional funk. Being patient seemed so hard. I’ve been patient for so many years already! I thought. And guys . . . I was just wallowing in sin. Not rejoicing in what I had, not trusting in God’s good provision and timing, not looking forward to the fulfillment of all our desires in heaven . . . it was, well, gross. Like a junk food binge that leaves you feeling nasty and bloated.

Thankfully the Spirit slapped me. A nice, quick “wake up!” kind of slap. Hey, he seemed to say, it’s time to do one of those corny “what are you thankful for” exercises. Go!

I snapped to attention. My husband and I started saying out loud what we were thankful for. Soon I was laughing . . . because there’s so much. My moody little grumpfest was revealed for what it was: utterly ridiculous.

I’m thankful for coffee. Good food and a nice kitchen to cook it in. Alice’s silky, blond hair. These new hair twisty thingies I’ve been using every day. The Bible. Alice’s endearing relationship with her blankie.

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A time every morning to meet with God. Our comfy couch. Our car. Our church family. The fact that both our sets of parents are believers. Our nephews and their funny little selves. My enduring and amazing friendship with my sisters. Eggplant, that weird and delicious vegetable. Schreiber Park, where Alice has been swinging, sliding, and generally tearing it up. The fact that I can’t remember the last time we had to worry about money. Netflix. The internet. iTunes, which at one point didn’t exist. (can you believe it?)

Once we started naming things, we just kept going . . . and going. It was like a soul-purging, and it left me feeling cleansed and buoyant.

Guys, there’s so much to be thankful for. Letting our materialistic dreams consume our heart can be such a trap of unhappiness and joy-stealing. So today, say YES to joy!