God's Prayer Shelf

My mom reminded me of something Hannah* once said about God's prayer shelf:

"God has a special shelf where he puts our prayers. Then when it's time to answer them, he takes them down off the shelf, and he answers them."

Pretty profound for a just-turned seven year old.

At the time we were talking about how she prays every day for her "new family." The illusive something deep in her heart--a place to belong, a place to be loved, a place to be forever.

Knowing a family of her very own is the deepest desire of her heart, I was amazed at her wisdom and faith to believe God would answer her prayer at the proper time. And I silently prayed, Lord, answer her prayer soon, and if it's what is in your heart too, bring us together as a family.

This week God pulled one of my own prayers off the shelf.

A job.

Right at the moment when despair was beginning to settle into my heart. Right when I had run out of words to pray and could only trust the Spirit to interrupt my groans. Right when I was beginning to listen to my doubts and give them a foothold. That moment, He chose to pull down the prayer and provide a job.

And it's the job that is enough.

I'm not going to become ultra-rich off this job. But it will be a good job. A solid job where I can continue to help others and continue to do good.

It will be a job that will be enough for what I need right now.

And enough is, well, it's enough.

Wess Stafford the president of Compassion International often reinforces, "The opposite of poverty isn't wealth. The opposite of poverty is enough."

It's true. And it's true for what we all actually need.

We need enough.

We don't need more than enough. More than enough is nice. And those extra blessings of more than enough can often be what gets us through the day or gives us the extra burst we need.

But what we need is enough.

I'm reminded of the Israelites in the desert, instructed to take only what they needed of the daily delivery of quail and manna. Anyone who tried to hoard or save up, would find the extra portion rotted the next day. God was saying, Here is enough. You have to rely on Me for the enough.

And most definitely, the Israelites griped and moaned. We all would when we've been eating the same thing day in and day out for 40 years. I do it when I've been eating the same thing for a week. But the enoughness of the quail and the manna was a constant reminder of God's enoughness. Just as the little bit of oil and the little bit of flour were a reminder to Elijah and the widow.

Right now, I couldn't be more grateful for enough, and I know, really, this job is far more than enough. My heart swells with its more than enoughness.

It's as if I hear Jesus saying again "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable?...See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you?" (Matthew 6:25,28-30)

I'm so grateful for his enoughness and his provision of enough. And it makes me think seeking first his kingdom and his righteousness is partially about seeking the enoughness found only in God. It makes me want to seek more enoughness from the Author of enough.

What Hannah already knows and what the rest of us who are a little more battle worn and a little more pessimistic have forgotten is that those shelved prayers are waiting for enough. Waiting for the right time and the right enough. And if we can dig back into our faith and who we know God to be, the question is will we choose to believe Him for enough?


*Hannah is a pseudonym. In order to protect her identity until she is fully and legally mine, I use "Hannah" in all posts regarding my one day daughter and her adoption.

Being Thankful for Enough

Yesterday's letter of note on the Letters of Note blog (if you haven't added Letters of Note to your RSS feed, you seriously should) was a letter from President Ronald Reagan sent to his son Michael a few days before his marriage.

In it, Reagan exhorts his son:

"There is an old law of physics that you can only get out of a thing as much as you put in it. The man who puts into the marriage only half of what he owns will get that out. Sure, there will be moments when you will see someone or think back to an earlier time and you will be challenged to see if you can still make the grade, but let me tell you how really great is the challenge of proving your masculinity and charm with one woman for the rest of your life."

As much as you put in, that's what you get out.

Science was not my forte in school. Although I did well enough to get the grade, as soon as I left the class, all those wonderful principles dribbled out of my brain pan. So finding a life lesson in physics... I guess maybe it did come in handy after all.

I've been incredibly blessed throughout the years as I've moved from one location to one job to another. I have never had to fight or scrounge for a job. The next opportunity simply presented itself and I took it, assuming God would bless it and occasionally waiting to follow His leading in it.

So naturally, I assumed in moving home to Lubbock, within a matter of days a job would present itself. And not only would it be a job, it would "the right" job. A job where I could provide for myself and Hannah and a job in which I could be used to add to "kingdom come" on earth. Simple.

But this has not been the way of things.

I've had lots of interviews and quite a few people say "if we had an opening, we would definitely want to hire you" and a few amazing jobs who couldn't afford me and I couldn't afford to take, but no job offer. Not even one to turn down.

This is a difficult pill for me to swallow.

Why then did I leave South Africa? A job I loved? My daughter?

And I glamorize what life was there and decry what life is here, and cry and bemoan and generally throw myself a little pity-party-kind-of tantrum.

Unfortunately pity parties do not make you feel better. As far as putting into it what you get out, you get out of a pity party exactly what you put into it--more pity, more doldrums, more exhaustion.

On Monday, I asked a few friends and family members to join me in fasting and prayer over the job search. I didn't expect to get a job because I skipped a few meals, but I wanted to put the whole thing back in God's hands and ask for the patience, the faith and the wisdom to wait for His leading.

I found it rather rude when on the same day the job I'd been waiting to hear from called to say they'd filled the position. I put down the phone and cried and told God I just didn't get it and that Hannah was waiting and really...really...

It wasn't until evening when I was reading through 1 Kings that I found my way back into the peace that passes all understanding.

It was the story of Elijah and the widow (1 Kings 17:7-24). The widow with her little bit of oil and her little bit of flour.

In the middle of an enduring drought, this widow is at the end of her rope with one last meal for her and her son. They'll eat it and give in and waste away into starvation and eventually death.

So when Elijah tells her to feed him first, using up the last of her resources and leaving her and her son without a last meal, he's asking for a pretty huge favor.

But then there's the miracle, and the jar of oil never runs dry and the handful of flour never gets depleted.

What struck me as I read through is that God could have filled the jar to overflowing. He could have filled up the flour bin to the brim. But what he did instead was to give enough to keep the widow, her son and Elijah alive each day. Enough to keep them from starving, but not enough for abundance or extravagance. And truthfully, a few small loaves of bread each day was not enough to keep them from becoming malnourished, but it was enough to keep them alive.

Right now I have more than enough. I have a family who is standing by me every step of the way and helping to meet my physical needs as well as my emotional and spiritual ones. I have a whole host of people praying for me and even willing to fast with me. I have plenty of job opportunities to apply for and one chance continues to crop up after another. I have enough. I have more than enough if I'm willing to see it.

I do think Reagan's law of physics metaphor is right. What you put in is what you get out.

So I'm going to continue to put in. Continue to strive and pray and hope because I know there's a job and I know there's a little girl waiting even if she doesn't know exactly what she is waiting for.

But I'm thankful for enough. I'm thankful for the ways God provides enough everyday. Everyday enough, even when sometimes we don't think it is enough and we're feeling a little malnourished. I have no doubt there were days in the years of the drought that the widow raged and asked God why there wasn't more than enough. Just on this day, why isn't there more than enough? But God continues to provide enough.

I trust, hope and pray this time too God will provide enough, and am thankful for the enough he is already providing. And I'm asking ahead of time for forgiveness for the days I rage and the peace of God to calm my raging.

Father, you know and I know, you are always for my good.

The Decadence of Unemployment

As I write to you from Dogtooth--my favorite coffee shop in the Springs--I can't escape the feeling of decadence that consumes one when sitting at a coffee shop on a Monday morning while the rest of the American population commutes to earn the all important dollar. It is the decadence of the unemployed. Other indulging patrons, I notice, are mostly in their late 50s to early 60s (retirees). Maybe one or two full-time moms stopping in after dropping the kids at school. But I am by far the youngest patron, and I hazard a guess the only one in the unemployed ranks who probably shouldn't be in those ranks.

In my arrogance, I often think of the unemployed statistic as the homeless guy who hangs out all day on the bench at Pikes Peak and Tejon. Or the factory-worker who was laid-off because his job was exported overseas. Or the gal who couldn't quite keep up with the technology revolution. But today I make-up a portion of that statistic. I am one of the 7.4 million people in this country listed as unemployed.

Does this frighten me? Yes and no. There is always the terror that I won't find another job or that it will take a significant amount of time for me to find another job. Finances, for better or for worse, contribute to majority of the stress in our lives. I can understand why financial strains are one of the major reasons for divorce in this country. And while I know that I can be a squatter on my parent's couch if absolutely necessary, I've entered that period of life where I would really like to be able to stand on my own two feet--wobbly as they might be.

So then it comes back to how much do I really trust God. The B&N gig was a position that pretty much fell into my lap--a happy coincidence that I fully believe was entirely orchestrated by God. And in the last few months, especially the last month, I am confident that the Lord guided me to the culmination of my B&N employment. So if God gave me the job and God took me out of it, then logical deduction says that God will provide the what that comes next. Of course that's assuming that God is logical--He is, but is not bound by human logic. That also assumes a certain amount of faith on my part.

There are some points about God and life with God to which faith comes naturally for me. For instance, I easily believe in God being divine creator who is still actively involved in creation. The evidence is all around me, and I do not have a scientific brain that feels the need to dissect all of life to either prove or disprove the theory of creation. Not to mention that once you listen to grass farmer Joel Salatin talk about the inner and outer workings of his farm, doubt in a Creator God seems fully implausible. But when Jesus says, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? . . . But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (TNIV, Matthew 6:25,33)--that stretches my faith a little farther than it naturally wants to go.

I think that in quitting my job I was seeking first His Kingdom and His righteousness. But I'm not so sure that sitting in today's decadence that I am fully believing in the second part of Jesus' statement: and all these things will be given to you as well. I call it decadence because it feels in complete contradiction to what society would label as wisdom. And trusting God to provide as He provides for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field requires something of me that is higher than what is required of the birds and the lilies. In God's intelligent design of us, He gave you and me a higher consciousness than the rest of His creation. This produces a conundrum of faith. What is required of the birds to believe in God's provision is much less than what is required of us.

But I guess this is what faith is: "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (TNIV, Hebrews 11:1). I know what I hope for, and it is much more than just a new job. I hope for and believe in God's deliverance of our world from the social injustices that plague it. I believe in the new earth that God has promised. I hope for a world fully reconciled to Him. These are things that cause me to come to God with faith and hope. I seek for surety in His promises. And if I sit in my decadence today, I trust that tomorrow I will sit within the well-spring of His provision. And perhaps today I also cry out with the boy's father in Mark 9, "Lord, I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"