I think our biggest challenge has been to include God in all areas of our finances not just faith promise or when money gets tight. It’s just too easy to leave him out and believe that we can figure it out on our own.
I have a tendency to think I can figure it out on my own because I’m an INTJ and good at money management. I’m organized and I know how to operate Quickbooks. God gave me these talents so I could use them. Right? I mean, mature Christians shouldn’t have to bug God about everything.
But I’m learning this is a false view. It makes God out to be a god who helps those who helps themselves or who demonstrates his approval of us through worldly success.
It also assumes some false things about myself: namely that I am able to find out God’s will on my own and that his will will coincide with common sense and being money wise and making a good retirement plan—all good things, but not guaranteed to be God’s way.
Thankfully, God has been in the business of grinding down my small view of him and asking me to drink it so that I can discover how unpalatable it is. I drink it when my house and my plans and my organization is disrupted. Suddenly circumstances force me ask myself, “Is your God big enough for this also?” And so many times, I’ve realized, no. My idea of God was too small.
I forget that my plans are not his. He is the master planner, the master organizer, the master of cleanliness and maintenance.
He ordered this universe at the beginning of time, separating this from that, giving names, telling the waters where to stop. And when God was teaching the Israelites about himself, he gave very strict instructions on how to maintain a sacred house with some pretty detailed cleaning instructions. And Revelations is full of fascinating number codes, beautiful order and patterns that I don’t even get. God loves order and taking care of things properly.
But he is also a God who put mud in a blind man’s eyes so that he could see.Yeah, that didn’t follow the rules of proper hygiene. That’s because God’s order and rules and plans are not what I think. He uses dirt to open our eyes. We can’t see on our own.
I need everyday to say like David in the Psalms, “Make me to know your ways, O Lord. Teach me your paths.”
I’m learning to do this by talking to him about all those little things that bug me everyday. God, I wanna reupholster the couch. When can we have the money to do that? God, why do we keep running out of spoons? Where do they all go? God, why are we getting charged this $5.50 finance fee. Should I look into this? God, the children are letting the water run down the drive way again. I’m going to kill them.
It’s like we’re learning to drive a race car and we're blindfolded, and there’s a formula one race car driver in the seat next to us. Why wouldn’t we talk to him about everything? He’s not going to be annoyed. He wants this. And we need it. He knows the car. He knows the course. He's driven it before. Perfectly.
I have a tendency to think I can figure it out on my own because I’m an INTJ and good at money management. I’m organized and I know how to operate Quickbooks. God gave me these talents so I could use them. Right? I mean, mature Christians shouldn’t have to bug God about everything.
But I’m learning this is a false view. It makes God out to be a god who helps those who helps themselves or who demonstrates his approval of us through worldly success.
It also assumes some false things about myself: namely that I am able to find out God’s will on my own and that his will will coincide with common sense and being money wise and making a good retirement plan—all good things, but not guaranteed to be God’s way.
Thankfully, God has been in the business of grinding down my small view of him and asking me to drink it so that I can discover how unpalatable it is. I drink it when my house and my plans and my organization is disrupted. Suddenly circumstances force me ask myself, “Is your God big enough for this also?” And so many times, I’ve realized, no. My idea of God was too small.
I forget that my plans are not his. He is the master planner, the master organizer, the master of cleanliness and maintenance.
He ordered this universe at the beginning of time, separating this from that, giving names, telling the waters where to stop. And when God was teaching the Israelites about himself, he gave very strict instructions on how to maintain a sacred house with some pretty detailed cleaning instructions. And Revelations is full of fascinating number codes, beautiful order and patterns that I don’t even get. God loves order and taking care of things properly.
But he is also a God who put mud in a blind man’s eyes so that he could see.Yeah, that didn’t follow the rules of proper hygiene. That’s because God’s order and rules and plans are not what I think. He uses dirt to open our eyes. We can’t see on our own.
I need everyday to say like David in the Psalms, “Make me to know your ways, O Lord. Teach me your paths.”
I’m learning to do this by talking to him about all those little things that bug me everyday. God, I wanna reupholster the couch. When can we have the money to do that? God, why do we keep running out of spoons? Where do they all go? God, why are we getting charged this $5.50 finance fee. Should I look into this? God, the children are letting the water run down the drive way again. I’m going to kill them.
It’s like we’re learning to drive a race car and we're blindfolded, and there’s a formula one race car driver in the seat next to us. Why wouldn’t we talk to him about everything? He’s not going to be annoyed. He wants this. And we need it. He knows the car. He knows the course. He's driven it before. Perfectly.
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