I have been attending church for most of my life and during that time I have of course tithed (well, not always,but I do try!).  I have filled out that little envelope, marked where I wanted my money to go and dropped in the offering bucket as it came by.  I never once thought about what happens after the buckets are collected…until about two months ago.

I was asked if I wanted to volunteer in the finance department on Mondays when they process the tithes and offerings.  I agreed because it sounded like fun.  I know, I am an accounting nerd!  Now that I have been doing this for about two months I can see what everyone does wrong and I of course know how to fix it!  I complete this process every Monday with two other ladies and we have come up with a solution to our problems.  We decided that we need to educate the church population on the do’s and don’ts of tithing.  A video before service would serve this purpose and we have put together a list:

DO use an envelope when giving a cash donation.  Please write your full name on the envelope.  Do you know how many Bob’s there are in our church?  We don’t know who you are if you don’t write it down!

DO place your money neatly in the envelope.  It is not necessary to fold it our crumple it like a piece of trash!

DON’T use an envelope for a check.  It is not needed.  All your information is on the check for us and all we do is throw the envelope away anyway.

DO put in the memo line of the check what your donation is for.  T for tithing, O for offering, M for missions and so on.

DON’T give us dirty coins…you know we have to touch them to count!!

DO give cash anonymously if you feel led to do so.  Just don’t crumple it up or fold until it is tiny.  We do have to straighten the money out to give to the bank.

DON’T seal an envelope if you do not wish to write on it.  That way we can recycle the envelope.

We are not trying to be overly legalistic…just trying to make it easier on our Finance Department!

What do you do with your tithes and offerings?

It was the spring of 2003.  Our life was pretty much perfect in our eyes.  We had two healthy boys and a beautiful home.  We both had good jobs and were able to buy pretty much anything we needed or wanted.  In March, we decided to sell our home because we wanted to move a little bit closer to our family.  We were able to sell very quickly and made enough money to pay off most of our debt.  We found a place to rent for a time while we looked for a new place to buy.  Things were still very good for us at that time.

Then came June…Tim received news that he was being laid off from his job.  This would cut our income in half.  He received a nice severance package, so we were not worried about money at first.  He started to look for a new job, but was having a hard time finding one that would replace his income.  He had to settle for a job just making something because that was better than nothing.  As his severance ran out and his income did not meet our financial needs, we started to use credit cards again.  These are the cards that had been paid off when we sold our house, but since we did not close them, we had them to use.

We continued to struggle financially as the more we used the credit cards, the higher the payments became.  Because Tim was still not making very much money, we couldn’t always make our payments without borrowing from one card to pay the others.  It was a very steep and quick downward spiral.  We were trying so hard to keep our heads above water, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle.  Tim was working, but still not making the amount of money he was making before he was laid off.  He got a job working for his dad’s company in September of 2004, but he was paid by commission, so our income was still unsteady.

By November 2004, all of our credit cards were maxed to a tune of about $30,000.  We also owned two cars that we were making payments on.  We had run out of options.  We decided to declare bankruptcy.  I remember sitting in the lawyer’s office going over all our debt and feeling so defeated and so dirty.  I was so disappointed in ourselves that we had let it go so far.  I was mad at God because he did not rescue us.  When we went to court to settle the bankruptcy, I still did not feel good.  Yes, our debt was gone, but I felt like I had shirked on my responsibility to repay what I had spent.

In the months that followed, we struggled to figure out how to live on less money.  Especially hard because we now had no credit to fall back on.  We had to learn to live within our means and that was so difficult.  I had to go to a cash system so I would not over spend.  I actually had to tell myself no to so many things that I wanted…things that in the past I would have just bought with my credit cards.  I couldn’t figure out why we were still struggling…why God was not stepping in to help.

Gradually, we began to climb out of the hole we had dug for ourselves.  We began to understand why God allowed this season in our lives to happen.  See, before all this happened we thought things were perfect, but we were actually deceiving ourselves.  We lived happily and got all that we wanted, but we were living beyond our means by using credit.  We did not feel the pain, because we were able to make all of our payments.  But, it says in Proverbs 22:7 “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is servant to the lender.” We were held in bondage to our debtors and did not even realize it.  When we lost a large part of our income, we were hurt badly.  I think that if God had come to rescue us immediately, we would have learned nothing.  Our habits would not have changed.  We had to feel the pain in order to make a change.  I think God does this from time to time to teach us lessons.  There are seasons for everything in our lives.  Ecclesiastes says in 3:1,6 “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;”.  We were in a season of loss.  We had to learn to live without everything we wanted. We had to remember that God promised to provide everything we needed, Matthew 6:25,33-34, but not necessarily all we wanted.  It is our job to learn the difference.

Isn’t it amazing that hearing a specific song can bring on such vivid memories? I was listening to my iPod today as I was getting ready and the song Make Me Lose Control by Eric Carmen came on. I was immediately transported back in time…

It was the summer of 1988 and I was at band camp (I know, right?). At the end of the week, we had a social. We got all dressed up for the occasion. It was my first dance. I remember exactly what I was wearing. My dress was cocktail length with ruffles on the skirt. It was black with little white polka dots and pink flowers scattered around. It had spaghetti straps. I remember feeling so grown up even though I was only thirteen. I even added a little perfume for the occasion…Eternity by Calvin Klein.

It was a typical middle school dance set up with all the boys standing on one side and the girls on the other. Maybe a few brave souls were on the dance floor, but that memory is hazy. Then, it happened…the song started and from across the room came a boy headed straight for me! He asked me to dance! Not any of my friends…me!! I don’t remember what he looked like or what he was wearing or even his name for that matter. Only that he was tall and he was wearing Obsession by Calvin Klein cologne. I remember he smelled really good! After the song ended, we parted ways and I am pretty sure I never heard from him again. But still, the memory is a great one for me! My first dance with a boy!!

What song(s) create a memory for you?

Tim

Meeting the man that I was to marry on the first day of my first job in Sarasota Florida was not what I was expecting.  I was born in Sarasota Florida, but my parents moved to Dallas Texas when I was just six weeks old.  I lived there most of my life and then moved around a little.  When I was 21, my mother took a job offer in Sarasota and gave me an option (I was living with her at the time) of whether I wanted to move or not.  I decided, why not?  I interviewed and got a job with Barnett Bank.  I moved to Sarasota on June 1, 1996 and started my job on June 3, 1996.

As I was getting settled in at the bank that Monday morning, in through the door came, unbeknownst to me at the time, my future husband.  I remember what he was wearing…bright green pants and a tie with flowers on it (well, I say it was flowers, my husband says a different story here!).  My first impression was simply, hmmm, I wonder what his story is.  He had been burned in a fire when he was a child and still carries the scars from that accident.  I was intrigued and wanted to get to know him because I was curious about what had happened to him.  His first words were a tease to me because I was in ”his window” behind the teller line.  Thinking back, I think that was his way of flirting with me!  We talked off and on at work for the next couple of weeks and upon finding out that we were the same age, I asked him what people our age do inSarasota.  Well, he thought I was asking him out and basically ”set up” our first date.  This was to happen on June 28, 1996.

The morning of our first date, I woke up sick.  I called him to cancel, but he wouldn’t hear of it.  He offered to come over with soup and medicine to keep me company.  When he showed up, we put in a movie but didn’t watch it. We talked until about 1:00 a.m. and then since I was magically feeling better, we took a walk on the beach for a couple of hours.  After that first date, we saw each other more and more.  He used to work very late at the movie theatre. He would drive across town when he got off work and knock on my window to tell me good night. This was so romantic and sweet, I thought.  He would also give me little gifts in response to things we had discussed on the phone.  Like, I told him I loved roses and Oreo cookies.  He showed up the next day with roses and Oreo cookies! We started to spend all of our free time together.

In August 1996 we went ring shopping.  He wanted to know what kind of ring I wanted so he would know what to buy.  We ended up purchasing a ring, but with him telling me that he would keep it until the time was right.  He also wanted to surprise me.  As he will discover throughout our future years of marriage, I am very hard to surprise!

In November 1996, we planned a trip to Dallas.  He had never been there and wanted to see where I grew up.  My mother had some business to take care of there, so she went with us.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, he had the ring with him and was planning on proposing that weekend.  In fact, when we were on the airplane, I said to him, “ Wouldn’t it have been cool to get engaged while we were in Dallas?”  He just smiled knowingly at me and I was none the wiser.  He carried the ring with him in his sock everywhere we went for days waiting for the perfect time, but my mother seemed to be with us where ever we went!  One perfect opportunity was missed when we decided to go on a carriage ride through downtown in the evening.  It was such a beautiful night that of course my mother thought it would be fun to join us.  Tim’s plan was therefore thwarted!  Then, on Sunday November 10, 1996 we were at the Galleria Mall.  This is a big mall inDallas.  We passed by the ice skating rink and I wanted to skate.  He fought me and said he didn’t want to.  I pleaded until he gave in.  I thought it would be fun.  As we were sitting amongst all the people changing into our skates, I looked over at him and he was on his knee with the ring in his hand.  He said, “Will you be my wife?”  I was so shocked and surprised that I couldn’t say anything for a moment because I couldn’t stop crying.  I looked at him and he had this puzzled look on his face.  I think he was worried; I hadn’t said anything yet.  He asked, “Well.”  I then realized…I didn’t answer him yet!!  I said, ”Of course I will marry you!”  He put the ring on my finger and then we skated over to where my mother was sitting to share the good news.

We planned the wedding for one year later and wed on November 29 1997.  There is a story about this, but I will explain later!  Ever since that day I am continually amazed at how wonderful married life can be.  I truly believe that I married the man of my dreams and there is no one else that could fulfill the role in my life that he has.  He is the best friend, best husband and the best father any women could ever hope to be with.  And, I am the lucky one that got him!  Thank you Lord for giving me the man of my dreams!  And I am truly blessed because even while I was not conscientiously looking for a godly man, God was!

I always thank God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus.  1 Corinthians 1:4

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1)  I always thought I knew exactly what this meant, until May 25, 2002.  My second son was born on this day and my world as I knew it changed forever.  Because this was our second time around becoming parents, I assumed we were ahead of the game.  I would merely wait the nine months, go to the hospital to deliver the baby, come home a few days later and presto; new family!  And, with my cesarean section already scheduled, I knew there would be no surprises like the first go around.  Obviously, my son had other plans.

Jonathan Thomas was delivered twenty-three days before his due date.  As the nurses and doctors examined him, they noticed that he was having trouble breathing.  They assured me that this was common in a baby at his gestational age and would probably need a little assistance for a day or so…no big deal, right?  Wrong.  It was discovered quickly that he would need to be intubated.  I was not even allowed to hold him because of this until he was four days old.  At this point I still believed that what was going on was minor and would be quickly resolved.  I had no idea what lay ahead for my son.

On June 1, 2002, after spending the entire day with Jonathan, my husband and I left the hospital to have dinner.  We were feeling hopeful because Jonathan was finally learning how to feed on a bottle and knew that the next step would be to learn how to nurse.  When we got back from dinner, I noticed that he was not quite himself.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was definitely wrong.  I informed the nurse of my concerns, but she thought maybe he just needed rest.  Thinking they knew best, we left early that night for the first time since he had been in the hospital.  When the phone rang early the next morning, I instantly knew that something had gone wrong.  The doctor informed us that Jonathan had had a rough night and they weren’t sure if he was going to survive.  We immediately gathered the family together to pray.  We prayed over a blanket too.  As we drove to the hospital, we both felt the comfort of angels on our shoulders…maybe every thing would be okay.  When we got to the hospital, he was in the isolation room.  I panicked.  The last baby they had placed in that room had died.  I remember thinking to myself, “is there something that they are telling us?”

After spending the next two days in isolation and on so much medication that we did not see him open his eyes for days, the doctors decided it was time to move Jonathan to All Children’s Hospital in St. Petersburg where he could be seen by pediatric specialists.  We had placed the blanket that was covered in prayer over him and instructed the doctors and nurses to be sure that it was touching him at all times.  At this point, we had no idea what was even wrong with him and when or if he would recover.  I was both relieved and petrified at the same time that they were moving him to a different hospital.  When the doctor’s examined him, we were told all kinds of possible issues.  There was a valve in his heart that is supposed to close shortly after birth, but did not.  Because he did not respond to stimuli as a normal newborn should, he had possibly suffered a stroke or seizure.  His blood pressure was elevated and the doctors did not know why yet.  You can imagine the fear that this creates as you stand and listen to the doctors list possibility after possibility.  This was not some PBS special.  This was my child, my son.

After a myriad of tests, the doctors came to the conclusion that the high blood pressure was caused by a blood clot that had traveled to his kidney effectively “killing” that section of the kidney.  But, at this point he was still almost comatose, so we still did not have all the answers.  It was at this moment that I realized if I was going to get through this trying time, I was going to have to let go.  Let go to my beliefs and my faith.  Let God take control.  We had a friend of ours come to the hospital and pray with us for Jonathan’s health and recovery.  As I stood there with my eyes closed and my head bowed down I began to see a vivid picture in my mind.  I saw Jonathan with my older son, Jacob, and they were playing and running outside.  I also discovered later that my husband had the same vision as I had during that pray.  As my friend was praying, she said “’For I know the plans I have for you’; declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” (Jeremiah 29:11)  It was at that moment that I realized what it meant to be “certain of what we do not see”.  I saw with my eyes that tiny, helpless baby lying in a crib in the hospital, but in my mind I saw a young boy playing, happy and carefree.  I knew without a doubt that it did not matter what Jonathan had to endure at that moment.  It did not matter what the doctors said.  Jonathan would have to go through this season, but in the end he would be okay.

Jonathan came home from the hospital on June 17, 2002.  Ironically, this was his original due date.  We had to monitor his blood pressure daily and give him medication accordingly to keep his pressure down.  My friends often asked me how I felt about having to go through all of this.  I always said that I did not mind, because it would not be forever.  The doctors said he would probably be on the medication his entire life, but I never believed that. I believed he would be healed some day.  Jonathan saw his nephrologist every six months after he was discharged from the hospital.  He always amazed the doctor.  She gradually decreased the dosage of his medicine, even though he was gaining weight and should have needed an increase.  His damaged kidney showed signs of growth, even though the doctor was not sure it never would grow.  In January of 2006, Jonathan went for his normal six-month checkup.  Not only were we informed by his doctor that he no longer required the medication, but she did not need to see her for two years!  It took three and half years, but I always had faith that I would see what I had hoped for.

I was not raised in the church.  My parents were not Christians…well, not in the “real” sense of the word.  We were what you would call “CEO Christians”.  We went to church on Christmas, Easter and maybe one other time during the year.  When I was a freshman in high school I had a friend invite me to go to church with her and her family.  I instantly loved it.  I had a group of friends to hang out with and several good Christian women mentors.  On March 7, 1990 I decided to give my life to Christ.  I was on fire for God…maybe too much so if that is possible.  I was so aggressive with my new found faith that I actually turned off my parents.  I tried so hard to get them to go to church with me, but they refused time and time again.  My dad said he didn’t want to give up his day of sleeping in to go to church.  They did, however allow me to take my sister with me.  She was ten years younger than me and I had her with me every Wednesday, Sunday morning and Sunday evening.  She enjoyed it as well.

Finally, after I had turned fifteen and my sister was five, my dad suffered two great losses that rocked his world.  First, our neighbor’s five year old daughter was killed when her wind pipe was crushed by a clothes rack that fell on her.  Then, a guy that my dad worked with had a fifteen year old daughter who was killed by a drunk driver.  My dad came to me with tears in his eyes (I had never seen him cry) and asked if he could go to church with me the next Sunday.  He was brought to his knees because he had witnessed a five year old girl and a fifteen year old girl die within weeks of each other.  His daughters were five and fifteen.  He realized then just how fragile life can be.  He and my step-mother started attending church and within a few months, they had accepted Christ and were baptized in our backyard pool.  I was so glad that I had continued to sow that seed…because lucky for me, I got to see the harvest!  ”Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”  Galations 6:9

(I want to preface this by saying that this was my reality, right or wrong, at the time.  This is only my perspective and does not include the perspectives of either of my parents or what their reality was.  I love both of my parents and I have a loving relationship and a deep respect for each of them.)

I come from a broken home.  My parents were divorced when I was only four years old.  During that time in my life I went from living with my parents as a couple to living with my grandparents for about 8 months and then going back to living with my mom who was now single.  I felt that the divorce must have been my fault.  You see, the last time I saw my parents before getting on a plane to go see my grandparents; they were (I thought) happily married.  When I returned, they were divorced.  They had sent me away so I must have been the one to blame.

After the divorce, I stayed with my mother.  We moved several times during these years and as a result I attended many different schools.  It was an unstable time in my life.  I was scheduled to visit my father every other weekend.  There were many weekends that he couldn’t come get me and I remember being absolutely devastated each time that would happen.  I would cry and cry and I am sure that this hurt my mother as well to see me in such anguish.  I no longer blame my father for any of this, but at the time it was very difficult to handle.

When I was twelve, I gave myself an ulcer when my father asked me to come and live with him and I could not make a decision.  I felt that either way, one of my parents was going to get hurt.  My father persuaded me that it would be best to live with him, his wife and my little sister and I did decide to live with them, but that did not solve any of my problems.  I don’t believe that my father had any ill intent; he was just trying to do what was best for me.  And, in retrospect, I do believe that the stability he provided was the best situation for me.  A difficult part for me was that my mother allowed me to choose with whom I wanted to live.  I thought she didn’t want me because she did not fight for me or tell me that I couldn’t go live with my dad.  I now know that she felt I was old enough to decide and she did want me to live with her.

I was a very depressed child that turned into a very depressed adult.  I lived with this for over twenty years.  Sure, you think that you get over things, but really they just get put up on a shelf.  Inside I was still that little girl that my dad left on the plane to go see my grandparents.  I felt that same pain come back again and again every time my dad dropped me back off after spending a weekend with him or when I waited and waited for him to pick me up and never showed.  I know that when people get divorced they think that the kids will be okay; they think that they can keep things normal for the children’s sake.  But let me tell you from first hand experience, you can’t.  My parents were always nice in front of my brother and me and did not ever fight or bad mouth the other, but, it was still not a normal life.  More than anything, I wanted to be that kid whose parents were still married after thirty or so years and still as much in love as the day they met.  Think that dream is impossible?  I used to.  Now I know that getting divorced is as much of a decision as getting married is.  You choose to get married and you can choose whether or not to get divorced.  You have to actively make decisions that support your spouse and bring you closer and not pull you apart.  I am not suggesting that marriage is by any means easy, but if you decide as a couple that divorce is not an option and you work at it, you can have a successful marriage.  Genesis 1:24 says, “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.”