Let's say our house was "falling apart." To us, it felt like it was. We rented to the tune of $1300 a month for eight years--that's $124,800--and praised Jesus every time something went wrong 'cause we didn't have to pay for it. So even though I can paint my living room trim a deep, gorgeous red and the floor antique green, pipes leak, the boiler breaks along with the bulkhead, the electric is nuts, and we replace the water heater. No rejoicing there. Doubting, questioning, worry.
Guilt.
What a fool! I have a home. I'm warm when I sleep. My kids are safe and have never been hurt in the worst way. Why are you bellowing about a freaking hot water heater?
And then we find out that we aren't technically eligible for the $750 rebate. Had I, the white liar among all other white liars, been filling out the form, maybe we would have. But my man is a Man. He won't lie. Not for money. Not for anything. So we're short the bank we thought was coming. But God reminds us that the very day before the form filling, he sent us $700.
$700.
Not earned.
Not begged for.
Not prayed for.
Just given.
I remember he's always sustained us, so why not now?
I remember all the other ways he's carried us through all of this. Individual instances gathered together into an exquisite tapestry of love and nurturing care.
I remember to keep praying and relying and trusting and thanking. Stop groveling and complaining and fretting. Not because I'm faithful or committed, but because he never forgets. He never forgets his promises to his people. And the very fact that I can belong in His People is astounding. I was not born a Jew, but I still get to call him Father. If only I knew the eternal word for astounding!
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