An Ode to Johnny Paycheck

"Take this job and shove it....I ain't working here no more."*

I grew up listening to classic country....this song was old 30 years ago, and it has been playing in my head all day.

Though I hope my resignation was more professional and demonstrated a little couth....the end result is the same. In roughly 45 days, I won't work there anymore.

I have prayed about it, talked about, cried on my husband's chest...unsure what in the world to do.

I knew I was unhappy. Hubs knew I was unhappy.

But I was worried. We would be cutting our income by exactly 50%. I have always worked had a career, which made me feel important. I helped people. I was in charge of people. I made good money.

And I was tired. Tired of phone calls, budgets, complaints. I craved my home and my family.

But we NEEDED my income. (Why is it always about money?)

So it was 2:30 on the morning of my 36th birthday. My husband sound asleep, baby girl off visiting grandparents. And I lay awake, asking the Lord what He wanted me to do.

Though I believe in the burning bush and am fully convinced the Lord could call me via my Android device if He so chose, I was stunned when he answered my question.

That food pantry you can't find, the one, you want to volunteer in. START YOUR OWN.

So, I e-mailed my husband (yes, we do actually talk, out loud and face-to-face, but it was almost 3 am at this point), outlined the whole idea, got up, got dressed and went to work early.

Because my husband is the best, he brought me a birthday breakfast to my office.

The card he gave me read,

"I would be happy to serve with you and the food pantry in any way."

So today was it.

Take this job....or rather "It is with mixed emotion that I must tender my resignation..."

Either way. (Pray for me. Pray for us.) I am almost unemployed!


*Johnny Paycheck. "Take this Job and Shove It"

Making change

"Jesus said unto him, 'If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, then thou shalt have treasure in heaven and come and follow me.'" Matthew 19:21

Oh, how I like money or, at least, the comfort of knowing I have some money if I need it. I like knowing we could feasibly eat out most every meal, buy new clothes when we like, pay our bills, and save a little. I like giving...buying a meal here, a shower gift there, a little to this group, a little to that. I do envy people who I perceive have more than I do or seem to work less for having about the same.

But I have never known what it is like to not have. Never.

My mother told me one of the most humbling experiences of her life was having a wallet full of cash, checks, and cards but standing on line at the Salvation Army waiting for diapers during Hurricane Katrina. Money could not help her then.

So why do I think it can help me now?

Save a few weeks here and there, I have essentially been on-call 24/7 for the last ten years. My phone rings almost every night and every morning, multiple times. I get called away from home, trips, and birthday parties. I don't want to sound ungrateful...that career allowed me to (mostly) support my daughter and me all those years alone. But now, now is different; now I'm different. Is the money worth the trade?

I'm not that woman I was 10, 5, even a year ago.

So why is how I look at, what I do with, and what I sacrifice to get money the exact same?

I don't know either. Spending/money week is continuing.

TMI, CRAP, and what the Lord showed me

I thought clothes week was over. Really, it should have been appearance week. Make-up, jewelry, clothes..But I thought it was over.

My husband kissed a sleepy me bye this morning; he left early to set up the sound booth and perform sound check at our church (which meets in a movie theater and is a loving, come-as-you-are kind of place), and I dozed back off.

Phone rings.

CRAP.

It is a young lady I invited to church. She and her husband are there. Where should they meet me?

CRAAP.

I'm running a few minutes late. I'll be there in 15 minutes.

Quick call to the husband. Please find them and make them feel welcome.

CRAAP. Why did I fall back asleep? Why didn't I get there early?

Shortest shower in history. No time to shave my legs. CRAAAP.

My toenails have only the remnants of a teenage mutant ninja turtle green pedicure baby girl gave me 4 weeks ago!

No time to wash hair.

Dry off. Throw on a dress. There is a spot from our father's day (I wore this two weeks ago!!!) Mexican fiesta that didn't come out in the wash.

A little hair spray, a few strategically placed bobby pins, the stained dress, my husband's flip flops (don't ask. they are only a size too big and were the ones by the door), torn-up pedicure, and I'm out the door.

CRAAAP. 10 AM and 95 degrees in the car. A quick trip down the road, a check in the mirror. Eyebrows (and lip) in need of a waxing. Dark circles under the eyes. Hair a little wanky.

I'm only 10 minutes late. Hug my co-worker, squeeze my husband's shoulder.

I made it!

But the guest of honor was already there. He had been there long before.

He didn't need my legs to be shaven, my toes to be painted, my eyebrows waxed, my face painted. He didn't need me to show up at all. I had done my part, a passing invitation to a hurting heart. I had been in scrubs when I had done that, sweaty from 104 degree temperatures looking for something in an outdoor supply shed.

How vain, how arrogant to think that anyone came to this little theater to see me. Or short of arriving naked, would notice my appearance at all.

Lord, let them not see me, ever. Lord, let it be all about you.

If you think of me this week, pray that I am reminded that God looks on the inside. That my goal is not a pleasing appearance to others, but a pleasing heart to Him that made all parts of me.

Where does the money go?

What exactly do I spend my our money on? 

Remember? I only made it through one week of adding how much we spent eating out.

Just yesterday, I went to buy one new pair of white scrub pants (truly necessary after getting rid of the half dozen pairs that no longer fit) and came away with two stethoscope IDs, two scrub tops, and no pants. I find money in the bottom of my purse, in pockets of uniforms, on the bedside table, on the kitchen table. Not much, but dollars and cents add up.

My husband is better at controlling spending than I am. Frugal, but in a good way. Bless his heart (If you're not from the South....anything can be said about any person without offense, as long as it is followed by Bless his/her heart. Comes in handy. Try it.). He recently booked hotel rooms for us and my boss on a business trip. They were 44.95 each. My boss' reaction, "Are we renting by the hour?" The owner of the company had him send out the hotel info., so everyone has to stay there from now on!! Frugal. Frugal.

But like most men, he strives to give baby girl and me everything we could ever want. So frugal doesn't always apply. Without him though, I always lived paycheck-to-paycheck, even though I had an above-average income. Together, we are saving, paying off debt, learning new habits.

So starting today, I am writing down every cent I spend until July 31, 2012. I've done this before, and the results made me shocked, nauseous, a little proud, and very spoiled.

Shameful spending habits to follow!

With Thanksgiving

Even at the near-lowest volume, the TV seems so loud in  the middle of the night.

Baby girl, in her room down the hall can sleep through anything after sharing my bed all these years I've been on call. No ringing phone, no converstion, no movement wakes her up. My husband, in the next room over, stirs at the slighest movement, fully awake with any noise.

I can spy on her withot ninja skill. Just stand next to her bed and touch her cheek, how much I love her, literally stops my breath in my chest, so that I shudder a little when I finally exhale. How God made her, so perfect for me, is only one of his many miracles. Proof that God can bring light from any depth of darkness.

Watching him requires more stealth, minimal movement, all the while waiting for him to raise his head and open his eyes. Loving him was effortless. Believing that he chose me, that he saw the woman I could be, not the past I had, that he loved me, took all my faith and all his patience.

But here in this house, in the hot pink and zebra world that is hers and under the bedspread that he picked out for us are the gifts that God has given me. One year ago, I could not imagine being a wife, could not imagine that my child would share her mother with anyone. But the Lord gives us the desires of our heart, even when we don't realize we have them.

Lord, remind me when I am tired, when I am lazy, when I am angry that you gave me the chance to be her mother and his wife and that no other earthly position is more important.

Money, money, money, money!

I was eighteen years old when I got my first credit card, a college sophomore, living an hour away from home. It came to my PO Box in the campus mailroom. It was blue. It gave me $5,000.00. I was hooked.

I could, can,spend money with the best of them. That little blue card...I eventually got several more of them and debt in staggering amounts. So staggering that I had to ask to have them paid off twice because I could not even meet the minimum payments. All those cards and all that money and I had absloutley nothing to show for it. I was storing up what I thought were treasures. But they were meals out, clothes, shoes; and they came at a very high price.

Spending should have been last week, but my first bout with real dental issues, a root canal, have left me on the couch for the better part of five days. So I have wallowed and whined and missed a week of my life somehow.

I like to look at our bank account online. I like that there is money in not one, but two, checking accounts. I am comforted by our modest savings account.

I am so wrong to put my faith in finace.

I know that no matter how much we ever accumulate, money won't buy my family health, happiness, safety. So why do I think about how much money we can save? So why when I really want something does saving money never enter my mind? Why do we not use more, some, any of these incomes the Lord bleesed us with to help someone? Shouldn't our giving be more than just our tithe?  It is cliche, but we can't take our money with us.

Lord, what is it you would have me do? Why do I place such emphasis on money? I'm afraid of what I need to learn from this.

But I'm more afraid of not learning from it.

Here it is my WEAK with MONEY experience.

Exhale

I don't know why I have let them sit here for 2 entire weeks, a fortnight (a word baby girl sprung on us over lunch), but sat they have: the start of my clothes purge two weeks ago. [Please don't remind me that this means no one has used this chair in over two weeks, and that I could probably get rid of it too!] But today, today was it.....

After only two hours, the amount of clothes-all mine-to be given away more than tripled!

Clothes week, closed!