Saturday, March 7, 2015

Confessions: Riches I Heed

The novelty has worn off.

The adventure has become normal life.

Right now, because we made the choice to life in a Cambodian-style house in a village that happens to be near a chicken farm, our battle is with the swarms of flies that invade homeschooling and cooking, eating at the table, and chats with the husband over coffee. I am waiting on the illnesses that follow this swarm having faced them last season.

Last month we battled emergencies: two broken arms and a severe allergic reaction.

Right before surgery for her broken arm
Our guard dog and a sense (albeit a naive sense) of security was stolen. Our well, dug very shallow by a man who cheated us, has yet to put forth water that resembles anything but liquid mud. Hot season is coming, and do not have enough fans.

God has, oddly enough, opened my eyes to a serious sin in my life. I love and trust money. I dream of having enough money to screen under our house. I dream of not needing to make decisions between good medical care and the cheaper alternative. I dream of comforts to ease the stress of the world around me: enough solar panels and batteries to run fans to keep us all cool, the ability to hire someone to do something about the wretched caterpillars that are audibly eating our home (yes, my foot went clear through a floorboard the other day), a new well that gives us clear (or even just clearer) water.

The scary thing is, I know I could contact dear supporters in the States. I know they would gladly provide for our needs. I know they want us to live comfortably. The generosity of the Church astounds me. 

However, if I am honest, I trust the Church more than God. I am looking to the Church's money to ease stress, to take care of me, to provide a future for me.

We don't have enough: not enough for retirement, not enough for comfort, not enough to thrive. I wrestle in desperation against the smothering fear of worry each day:
Where I do a lot of worrying...

How can I stand this comfortless lifestyle any longer?

What will we do when we are old and have given all our resources to the work we are doing now?

Why would anyone help us financially when we made the choice to move here?

We've got to raise more money!

And there it is, the hope of my salvation: Money. The god that will give me comfort and provide for my future, the god that puts me and my needs above His cause and breaks me free from the need to seek Him in all areas of my life.

I want to testify to you today that He is enough. He is all we really need. We can and should do ever so many healthy things, but He is enough. He is more comfort than a movie, than a counseling session, than food I like. He is more secure than any IRA or insurance plan. He is stronger than our weaknesses and desires, and He can use us and grow us in any situation.

"Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my treasure Thou art."

May You always be first in my heart, Father."

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