(Otherwise known as I am awful at numbers but love emojis.)
Ever since I was young I was bad at math. I mean not bad, but kinda awful. It never ever made sense.
Ever.
When I was in 7th grade I felt equal parts terror and imposter when I was asked to step in on the math team because my friend was sick (very, VERY, small school). And as I grew older, my math skills continued to deteriorate and unfortunately bled over into how I handled money. My checking account was forever “off balance.” Is that even a thing people say? I don’t know, but it didn’t add up.
I became anxious. I paid my bills, I worked a lot, but was forever worried I would run out of money.
Until one day I did.
I was in grad school at the time and was living the single girl, New York, dream…of being student poor in an astronomically expensive apartment. Guys, we didn’t even have living room furniture. We literally just set up some sort of folding chairs.
I remember the day I ran out of money because I was headed home from my internship, had no money for dinner and was trying to figure out how to get to work the next day because I didn’t get paid until noon and had to be at work at 7 a.m. Let me lay it out for you: I ate eggs for dinner, along with a side of rice cakes and peanut M and M’s and I walked 40 blocks to work at 5:30 a.m. in Manhattan.
It was awful. I like to pretend this was my “I walked uphill to school in the snow, BOTH WAYS,” moment for my future children.
I was my version of poor, definitely scared, and walking in the dark in NYC.
So I prayed.
God comforted me in that moment and reminded me that he would take care of me, checking account and all. Over the next couple of years, I continued to be anxious but each time turned to God and some way, somehow, he spoke into my life and slowly changed how I viewed money.
I remember the first time I felt prompted to give my last $20 away. It was so completely scary but also exhilarating and freeing. So I did it again, and again. And slowly I realized that the more I gave my money away, the less scared I was of losing it. And somehow, in some miraculous God sort of way, I never went without.
I was back to money not making sense, but I had peace I never could have imagined.
As I think about this trip, I think back on this story. I have been feeling oh so scared of all of the ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’ and ‘have tos’ when it comes to raising money for the trip.
I’ve found myself questioning everything that could be questioned.
But crazily enough, I’ve also found myself giving a lot.
I don’t say this so you guys can pat me on the back or for glory or good thoughts. But I do say it to remind myself that God is here.
In this.
In me.
In you.
Working.
He’s got us.
And one plus one never equals two in his checking account either.
