One thing I have never understood is the pull of materialism. I actually feel pity (no pun intended) for those who think that money will solve their problems, loneliness or heartache. My husband will tell you that I grew up with money, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Dwain thinks that because we had a beautiful home and in-ground swimming pool with tiles imported from Italy, that we were wealthy. We had access to incredibly expensive vacations, restaurants and hotels: but these things were paid with my father’s expense account; there were many times that mom couldn’t afford groceries, times dad’s check hadn’t cleared, times we had the electricity shut off.
Money won’t do a damn thing for you, and after you have it, well, where’s the challenge/joy? God has met our needs abundantly, and each and every time we thought, “This is it, we’re selling the farm,” well, he pulled us through:
Random checks or overpayments came just in time for the taxes.
A much needed ironing board would be set out at someone’s trash pile.
I once worked for a woman so vile, so incredibly mean-I didn’t last long, but she gave us her couch. (We understood why after we disposed of our old, dilapidated furniture and replaced it with her “gift.” The bloody thing smelled to high heaven of cat puke, dog vomit and other odiferous rot,) We worked pretty hard to clean it up, and I am pleased to announce that we were successful, after about four months.
When my husband fought for and earned a new job with a new company who pays him what he is worth, there was a huge sigh of relief, but an inner sadness-we had come to know our Lord and Savior would get us through each day, and that was a beautiful thing. Luckily, the judge hasn’t made a decision on my disability case-I mean, what would I do with all that money?
And what the HELL is it with clowns? They scare the bejeepers out of me.