By Kely Braswell (Dangerous Breeze)
You say… "I can’t manage."
God says… "I will supply all your needs."
Well, excuse me if I – just for a minute – work out my salvation with fear and trembling. And a little kicking against the goads. A small rant, and a vent on the side.
Just gonna go a little “David complaining in the Psalms” on y’all for a minute.
God, it DON’T ALWAYS FEEL like you’re providin’!
We’re a family of 8, and we’re always right on the edge of, “Uh-uh, these bills aren’t gonna get paid this month!”
“How are we ever gonna finish paying these medical bills off?”
“God, we need tires! And the van leaks oil like we struck a gusher! We need a new dishwasher! There are ants all over our kitchen!
“The upstairs faucet leaks! How will we ever paint our house? It needs it, Ya know! And what about our old, grimy carpet?”
“And college? Ya gotta be kidding me! For the next two years in a row we’re gonna have kids starting college. Are You aware of this? The only bright spot is that they’re both so brilliant, and we’re so broke, we’ll probably qualify for 50 times normal financial aid!”
Whoa, little doggie.
Have you ever had these thoughts? Of course you have.
Have you ever voiced them out loud to Him?
Well, you should. It’s amazingly cathartic. David knew what he was doing in all those Psalms.
Why is it that we as adults – that I – assume we’re not gonna make it? God’s not gonna take care of us. Even if He says it a hundred times in the Bible, I still doubt it, every month. At least it feels that way.
Oh me of littlest, bittiest, tiniest, minisculest faith. I think I believe! Help my unbelief!
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I learned a powerful lesson from my kids when I lived in Turkey.
Down the street from our apartment building there was a small store. We called it “The 2 Minute Market,” because it took us two minutes to walk there. (We’re pretty creative that way.)
Frequently I’d rise from my chair and I’d declare to the air…
“Let’s go get a coke at the 2 Minute Market!”
My children were 10, 8 and 4 at the time, and they’d vault up vigorously from whatever they were doing, put on shoes, and away we would go. We’d march down the street and through the store’s front door. My kiddos would stride confidently to the banks of cold soft drinks, open the door, retrieve their choices, and plunk ‘em down on the counter.
They knew I was gonna pay.
Not one time – NOT ONCE – as we walked down the street did they ever look over at me with a worried face and say, “Dad, are you sure you’re gonna have the money? I mean, I know you said, ‘Let’s go get a coke,’ but did you really mean it?
“Or are we gonna get there, and when we put our cokes on the counter, are we gonna be embarrassed? Are you gonna say, ‘Sorry, kids, just kiddin’! Haha! I know I said, Let’s go get a coke!’ but I didn’t really have a way of taking care of it!’ “
No. It never happened. Because they trusted that if I said we were going, then I had the means to provide. And I had the intent to provide.
They plunked their cokes down, And in turn, I reached in my pocket and plunked down payment.
Because I’m a good dad. And I wouldn’t tell ‘em I was gonna get ‘em cokes if I wasn’t gonna be able to!
And I ain’t even God!
He’s got much deeper pockets; much firmer promises; neither His riches nor His ability to keep His promises ever run dry.
Ever.
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My wife is a smart, smart lady.
When we first got married, we had one mattress, on the floor, and 5 cardboard boxes as furniture. I wouldn’t kid you about something like this.
We had nothing.
She decided she would keep a notebook of the ways God provided for us.
There was nothing special, externally, about that notebook. It was just a small spiral, kind of mottled blue. Probably cost $2.49 at Walmart.
But into that notebook went the riches of God. Again and again and again through the years she would faithfully record all the ways God provided for us. For the first ten years of our marriage, anytime our faith was waning, we could pull out our notebook – and we did many times – and see how God had come through for us.
Sometimes it was money. But often it was a meal someone bought for us. Once it was our Thanksgiving Turkey, because the grocery store had it marked wrong, so she got it free. One time, because the church was about to raze a house to build a parking lot, we got to live there rent free, for 9 months.
One time a hail storm came, and we got $3000 dollars for the damage it did to our car. We drove that car for 10 years looking like it had a bad case of the pox. But every dent said, “I will provide.”
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For 21 years now He has provided. We’ve never even had $5000 to our name at once. We’ve been to more countries than we can count while we’ve been missionaries. 80something international flights, at last count. Lived in Turkey. Had 6 kids. Given away a significant percentage of our income.
And trusted in God.
Looking back, it’s been fun. Lookin’ back, we can see the hand of God.
But every month, it ain’t fun again. Every month, we have to decide again if we believe He’s gonna provide.
If ya know what I mean.
And He always does.
Kely is the senior pastor of Antioch Community Church in Knoxville, TN. He has a B.S. in Secondary Education, and he’s a lawyer on top of that (go figure that combination!). He has also been an overseas church planter off and on for the last 20 years. Kely is a husband and father to six, and enjoys running, reading and writing. You can find more of his writing over at his blog: Dangerous Breeze.