out of Kadesh

Let me paint you a picture.

You’re fresh out of college, and you majored in the Fine Arts. You’re not sure what you want to do exactly; you just know that this world is corrupt and broken and you have something you want to say and the Fine Arts is the best way you can say that thing to the world at large. You’re an idealist, and that makes sense, given your choice for a career path. The money doesn’t matter, and obviously you’re not in it for the fame (hey, you know the statistics!). You just want to change the world through theater, or painting, or music, or dancing, or sewing, or hopping around on your pogo stick, or whatever it may be.

So you are out there; you’re in the wide wide world and you’re just putting yourself out there and no matter how many times you get rejected you don’t care, because by God, you’re going to say your piece and you’re going to make this crummy world a better place for your children to live! And then finally, after years of getting doors slammed in your face, a door actually OPENS for you. You run through it, feeling lighter than you have since college. This means a paycheck, and an audience! You’ll finally get to say your piece, and just when you were getting really tired of your squashed nose from running at full speed into brick walls all the time.

Finally, the curtain comes down or the gallery opening closes and you are standing there listening to applause and you realize yes, this is it, this is what you waited for this whole time. And this break was THE break. I mean it was a HUGE break for you! Everyone loves you and they have to see more of you! And so you’re in demand suddenly, and this paycheck is higher than that one and this company is offering you more because you are a hot ticket! And it’s so great cause… wait… why is this great other than the fact that you know how hot you are? Oh yeah, something about…the…world! That’s it, you want to say something to the world.

And now you’re off! You perform at this theater, you sing in that concert hall, you sew a quilt for this museum, and money money money is being offered to you but even better than that is the applause applause applause! And you are in this magazine! And you’re on that radio! And press wants you, you, you and it’s ALL about you! And you’re all “this is the life!” and soon you’re all “wait, you only want to offer how much?” and then you’re like “um, I deserve higher billing in that program…” and then you’re all “why do I only get 100 words in that press piece about me?!” and then you’re like “what do you mean you’ve never heard of me???” and before you know it you’re like “did that plain old administrative person just say something to me?” and then you turn away because how idiotic for one of the peons to try and talk to someone of your stature in the world of entertainment?

And suddenly you’re not trying to say anything to the world any more. Your beauty and your fame and your bank say it all now. And when you’re 85 and you don’t know who your true friends are and you are working on your last breaths, MAYBE, MAYBE then you’ll finally realize that you started out in this place of idealism, where you flipped on Fox News and thought, this has to change. You finally remember that you came from a place where you desperately wanted this broken world to be better and if only you had the chance, you’d say something that would soften the hearts of people everywhere and the human condition would be all the better because you left your footprint on someone’s heart.

But you didn’t, because you decided that YOU were more important, and that being a diva was what you were really all about. Congratulations.

Well, sending money to Convoy of Hope this month felt amazing and scary at the same time. Amazing because I thought, how awesome that I am helping people get food and medical services? Scary because that’s money we no longer have for this thing I like to call DC survival.

So with an empty tank of gas and $12 in our respective pockets, Lance and I headed off for dinner with family. We had agreed to eat at a cheapish fav place called Cosi, and as we were jogging to catch the bus to Ballston (empty tank, remember?) we were discussing what meal we could share when we got there. Then, as if it was actually made of gold that was glinting in the sunlight instead of green paper, we both saw the most beautiful 5 dollar bill on the sidewalk that I have ever seen in my life. In a moment of frozen time we both stared down at it, slowly letting the amazing love and provision of our God sink in.

The story should have stopped there. I seriously felt so happy at suddenly having enough for TWO dinners at Cosi that I felt like skipping. In fact, I did a little. But after we got to the restaurant and hugged the fam and ate dinner and chatted and chased screaming kids and ate some more, Shannon and Dan ended up paying for the whole thing anyway.

Which leads me to believe that God only wanted me to THINK that randomly giving us an extra Lincoln was the best He could do for us, so that when we actually got the whole dinner for free, my socks were officially blown off. I think the real miracle was how loved and taken care of I felt in those two moments last night, and of course I realized how silly it was to be nervous about giving money to people who really need it, when I honestly believe God loves me enough to provide for me. Cause when I think about it… I’ve never gone hungry. Why would I ever worry about money?

So the moral of the story is…”then I found 5 dollars! No seriously, I found 5 dollars!”

I’ve heard that one of the most painful things known to human-kind is childbirth. While I have never personally experienced it, I have watched enough movies to know that those women are not kidding around. Ask a woman whose baby is crowning if this pain is worth it, and I bet my $20 weekly cash limit that she would scream an embittered “NO!” while slapping her husband in the face and telling him he’ll never be inside her again.