We don't do debt at our house anymore, but that's another story. It's actually a great story, but all you need to know right now is that, with the exception of our mortgage, we don't do debt. I'm not particularly frugal and am no financial wizard, but as the keeper of the finances, I know the only way to live without debt is to set aside money each month for things we know we'll want or need. One of the biggest chunks we set aside right now is called the "car fund" because while my husband and I are happy to drive our current vehicles as long as they last, both are over ten years old, so it just makes sense to be prepared. We started the fund after selling some property and paying off all our debt over a year ago, and have been faithfully paying into it every month since. It's pretty healthy, but we won't be really comfortable for another year or so. Still, we've been blessed with reliable cars, and have faith that God will provide us with what we need when we need it.
Because of that, when it came time to make a pledge to our church's annual missionary budget, it seemed logical to earmark at least one month's car savings. Each year, members of our church are asked to promise a certain amount of support in faith that God will enable them to honor their commitment. Called a "faith-promise," it is an opportunity to share in the building of God's kingdom and to exercise our faith. For the 2009-2010 budget year, we committed to one month's car savings, plus 25%. At the time, it seemed like just enough of a stretch, but honestly, I had very little doubt we'd be able to honor the commitment. I had focused most of my faith in the hopes that neither vehicle would need to be replaced until we had built up our car fund, but God had much bigger things in mind, and two circumstances would soon arise that would truly test my faith in particular.
The first was an unwelcome surprise. Near the end of 2009, we received a huge, unexpected bill from our HOA. The details aren't important, but it funded a major project mandated by an outdated state law. While we took advantage of the option to break up the amount into three payments over several months, the total bill was equal to exactly three months of car savings, and that's just where we decided it would come from. I didn't feel great about it, but figured there was no sense worrying about it either, so I took a deep breath, prayed, and tried to let it go.
The second came up in the Spring, months after we'd paid the first installment to our HOA and months before the final two installments were due. I really felt God was leading me to attend a writer's conference in the summer, but was discouraged when I learned it would cost several hundred dollars (or two months of car savings). I talked it over with my husband, and was pleasantly surprised when he said I should go. Again, we were looking at a major expense we hadn't budgeted for, and again--unwilling to tap into our "real" savings--we decided to pull it from the car fund. But then I chickened out.
Well, not really, but with the final two installments to our HOA, our faith-promise, and the conference registration deadline all looming, the reality of allocating a total of six months of car savings elsewhere started to make me uneasy. As I sat at my computer with the conference website open, I just couldn't bring myself to type in my debit card number. And yet, I felt so strongly that God was calling me to go, and the go-ahead from my typically frugal husband only reinforced that feeling. Confused and conflicted, I tried to rationalize a solution. Obviously, I couldn't do anything about the HOA bill, so I sat at my desk weighing our faith-promise, the conference, and my anxiety. Had our faith-promise pledge been too ambitious? Was the pull I felt toward the conference just wishful thinking? Or was I simply worrying too much?
As I prayed and pondered, the answer to all of those questions was, "no." In my heart, I knew we had to honor our faith-promise commitment, and yet, the pull to go to the conference was undeniable. Unable to comfortably reconcile those two things, I stopped trying to. I clicked the conference website closed, pushed back my chair, and literally threw up my hands in surrender. "Okay God, I can't figure this out. I'm leaving it up to you. If I'm meant to go to this conference, you're going to have to show me how to do it or ease my anxiety about spending the money."
If I made that sound like it was easy, it wasn't. I went to bed confused and disappointed. My husband works evenings, so I couldn't even talk through my concerns with him. But the next morning, when I wandered into the kitchen to pour my super-sized glass of iced tea, he said he had picked up the mail on his way home the night before and there was something in the HOA newsletter about a change in the state-mandated project. Still sleepy and sluggish, I stared dumbly at the article and had to read it several times before it sunk in. A new state law had made the project unnecessary, and while some of the funds we'd already paid had been spent in preparation for the project, some of it would be returned. More importantly, we were no longer liable for the final two installments. The one part of the equation I thought couldn't change had changed overnight, and the amount we'd planned to allocate to the final two installments of the HOA bill easily covered the cost of the conference.
Thankful and giddy, I had no idea that God wasn't even done yet. Fast forward to just a few weeks ago. On a whim, I sent in some old silver and gold jewelry to goldstashforcash.com. Don’t feel bad if you're snickering because I was skeptical of the whole "cash for gold" craze myself, but goldstashforcash.com is endorsed by Dave Ramsey, so I knew they were a credible business. I gathered up all my broken, outdated, and tarnished jewelry and sent it off with absolutely no expectations. My husband and I joked about it for a couple of days and tried to guess how much "cash" I'd get for my "stash." My guess was $200.00, but really, I had no idea how much my stuff was worth, and would have been satisfied with $50.00. Imagine my surprise when the check arrived a few days later, and there were four numbers on the left of the decimal. In fact, it was just shy of three months' car savings.
If you've gotten lost in the math, let me help you out a little. We were originally looking at six months of car savings allocated elsewhere. But with the HOA project canceled and my unexpected windfall, our total outlay for the faith-promise, conference, and the small amount that went to our HOA was $50.00 less than our car savings for one month. I guess that's why they call it a "faith-promise."
As thankful as I am, I had reservations about publishing this particular post because I don't want to imply that God is some sort of fairy godfather who magically grants wishes. This particular gift is tangible and easily measurable, but it's also so much more. God brought me to a place where I couldn't find a comfortable solution and gave me the faith to leave it in His hands. He chose to make it possible for me to go to the conference and to make it abundantly clear that it was a calling, but He could just as easily have answered my prayer by granting me peace in either foregoing the conference or spending the extra money. God doesn't always give us exactly want we want or expect, but He is no man's debtor and richly blesses those who put their faith in Him.
Because of that, when it came time to make a pledge to our church's annual missionary budget, it seemed logical to earmark at least one month's car savings. Each year, members of our church are asked to promise a certain amount of support in faith that God will enable them to honor their commitment. Called a "faith-promise," it is an opportunity to share in the building of God's kingdom and to exercise our faith. For the 2009-2010 budget year, we committed to one month's car savings, plus 25%. At the time, it seemed like just enough of a stretch, but honestly, I had very little doubt we'd be able to honor the commitment. I had focused most of my faith in the hopes that neither vehicle would need to be replaced until we had built up our car fund, but God had much bigger things in mind, and two circumstances would soon arise that would truly test my faith in particular.
The first was an unwelcome surprise. Near the end of 2009, we received a huge, unexpected bill from our HOA. The details aren't important, but it funded a major project mandated by an outdated state law. While we took advantage of the option to break up the amount into three payments over several months, the total bill was equal to exactly three months of car savings, and that's just where we decided it would come from. I didn't feel great about it, but figured there was no sense worrying about it either, so I took a deep breath, prayed, and tried to let it go.
The second came up in the Spring, months after we'd paid the first installment to our HOA and months before the final two installments were due. I really felt God was leading me to attend a writer's conference in the summer, but was discouraged when I learned it would cost several hundred dollars (or two months of car savings). I talked it over with my husband, and was pleasantly surprised when he said I should go. Again, we were looking at a major expense we hadn't budgeted for, and again--unwilling to tap into our "real" savings--we decided to pull it from the car fund. But then I chickened out.
Well, not really, but with the final two installments to our HOA, our faith-promise, and the conference registration deadline all looming, the reality of allocating a total of six months of car savings elsewhere started to make me uneasy. As I sat at my computer with the conference website open, I just couldn't bring myself to type in my debit card number. And yet, I felt so strongly that God was calling me to go, and the go-ahead from my typically frugal husband only reinforced that feeling. Confused and conflicted, I tried to rationalize a solution. Obviously, I couldn't do anything about the HOA bill, so I sat at my desk weighing our faith-promise, the conference, and my anxiety. Had our faith-promise pledge been too ambitious? Was the pull I felt toward the conference just wishful thinking? Or was I simply worrying too much?
As I prayed and pondered, the answer to all of those questions was, "no." In my heart, I knew we had to honor our faith-promise commitment, and yet, the pull to go to the conference was undeniable. Unable to comfortably reconcile those two things, I stopped trying to. I clicked the conference website closed, pushed back my chair, and literally threw up my hands in surrender. "Okay God, I can't figure this out. I'm leaving it up to you. If I'm meant to go to this conference, you're going to have to show me how to do it or ease my anxiety about spending the money."
If I made that sound like it was easy, it wasn't. I went to bed confused and disappointed. My husband works evenings, so I couldn't even talk through my concerns with him. But the next morning, when I wandered into the kitchen to pour my super-sized glass of iced tea, he said he had picked up the mail on his way home the night before and there was something in the HOA newsletter about a change in the state-mandated project. Still sleepy and sluggish, I stared dumbly at the article and had to read it several times before it sunk in. A new state law had made the project unnecessary, and while some of the funds we'd already paid had been spent in preparation for the project, some of it would be returned. More importantly, we were no longer liable for the final two installments. The one part of the equation I thought couldn't change had changed overnight, and the amount we'd planned to allocate to the final two installments of the HOA bill easily covered the cost of the conference.
Thankful and giddy, I had no idea that God wasn't even done yet. Fast forward to just a few weeks ago. On a whim, I sent in some old silver and gold jewelry to goldstashforcash.com. Don’t feel bad if you're snickering because I was skeptical of the whole "cash for gold" craze myself, but goldstashforcash.com is endorsed by Dave Ramsey, so I knew they were a credible business. I gathered up all my broken, outdated, and tarnished jewelry and sent it off with absolutely no expectations. My husband and I joked about it for a couple of days and tried to guess how much "cash" I'd get for my "stash." My guess was $200.00, but really, I had no idea how much my stuff was worth, and would have been satisfied with $50.00. Imagine my surprise when the check arrived a few days later, and there were four numbers on the left of the decimal. In fact, it was just shy of three months' car savings.
If you've gotten lost in the math, let me help you out a little. We were originally looking at six months of car savings allocated elsewhere. But with the HOA project canceled and my unexpected windfall, our total outlay for the faith-promise, conference, and the small amount that went to our HOA was $50.00 less than our car savings for one month. I guess that's why they call it a "faith-promise."
As thankful as I am, I had reservations about publishing this particular post because I don't want to imply that God is some sort of fairy godfather who magically grants wishes. This particular gift is tangible and easily measurable, but it's also so much more. God brought me to a place where I couldn't find a comfortable solution and gave me the faith to leave it in His hands. He chose to make it possible for me to go to the conference and to make it abundantly clear that it was a calling, but He could just as easily have answered my prayer by granting me peace in either foregoing the conference or spending the extra money. God doesn't always give us exactly want we want or expect, but He is no man's debtor and richly blesses those who put their faith in Him.
