My biggest struggle is probably with how I view my own situation. I can’t even count how many times I’ve talked about being poor or stressed with Jen how we will make ends meet at the end of any given month. But here’s the thing…we’re not poor, we’re broke, but we’re not poor. I was reminded of this as I made a “poor” comment about myself when I dropped Aiden off at school a couple of weeks ago. I was standing with other families who were literally poor. People who aren’t sure where (or if) they will receive their next meal. People who have no medical coverage and are left to fend for themselves when they or their children are sick. People who do not have a guarantee that they will have a place to live because they are always two to three months behind on their rent.

My guess is that if these people heard me complain about being poor they would want to kick me in the nuts. It makes me want to kick myself in the nuts.

I had something else to say…but I forgot it.

It seems to me that the only gift that gets close to being a true gift is a gift that we give to someone we don’t want to give to (or someone who doesn’t deserve it) without anyone knowing. I guess then, that God gives real gifts, since the whole world is a gift, and a vast majority of us don’t even notice.

Ty, you’re so exactly right. Your story explains perfectly what I meant by saying that having money can be quite a curse. It gives you a false sense of security I think.

The greatest gifts I’ve been given have been forgiveness and tough love, though Gina and Steve supporting me doesn’t hurt.

I would like to say, for the record, that I think that Jesus meant that it is REALLY hard for rich people to keep doing what is right. There is one particular rich guy with whom my dad has regular contact that, in my opinion is really falling into that trap of which Jesus warned, and I don’t know what to do. He uses his money to buy power and control in Christian organizations. Though he was once humble and private in his giving, now it is a specticle. How do you say, “B—, I don’t know you that well, but I see what you do and I think you need to take another look at the eye of that needle . . . and yes, I know that I need to take a look at this board in my eye too.”

However, I struggle at times with giving because though I know I am doing a good thing, the fact that I feel so good about it makes me feel like perhaps it’s less about what I do and more about how it makes me feel. Does that make sense?
Hm