I woke up and looked around the room, not knowing where I was for a minute. Then it hit me and I remembered. I am alone. This is my new reality.
The tears began to fall as my mind and body awakened to face another day. It was mid-week, and the first job of the morning was to get my littles off to school. I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled into the hallway. Morning music, that’s what is needed. I pushed play on the KidzBop CD, and happy music began to fill the upstairs. Reminding myself and my children of God’s constant love and how he is providing for us enabled me to keep moving forward. Music has a way of lifting my emotions and it seemed to do the same for the kids. Somehow, we all managed to eat, dress, and pile in the car off to begin another day.
As I exited the car line at school my mind was already on the next task - balancing the checkbook. Although I have a quick mind and business savvy, some details don't interest me. Consequently, I am the type of person who rounds bank accounts to the nearest dollar and measures to the closest quarter inch. In other words, keeping a balanced bank account was not my strong suit. The fact that I needed duplicate checks to help me remember I even wrote a check had been a point of tension in my marriage. Now I have to take care of my own bank balances. Hot tears ran down my face and clouded my eyes as I remembered the difficult interactions in the past.
At home, I got out of the car wiping my eyes. The first order of business was to print the statement from the bank. This sounds simple enough, but it was not. My laptop was not connecting with the wireless printer I had just purchased. In my mind, technology should work like my car: turn the key in the ignition and it starts. Of course, there were things I had to do to keep my car running but they were pretty straightforward. Technology, on the other hand, seemed to require a lot of trial and error. I called technical support and got passed around from one person to the next. All I wanted to do was balance my bank statement! Could no one give me the three steps I needed to make this work!?! Surely someone knew what I was supposed to do; if they would just tell me, I would do it. The clock was ticking, it was an early release day and I had already been on the phone for more than an hour. My shoulders tensed as I tried to retain my composure, but try as I will the tone of my voice indicated my true feelings. The customer service representative had the audacity to suggest my tone of voice was offensive to him. If he could hear my thoughts, my tone wouldn’t be the only thing offending him. I was passed to the next person and finally, someone helped me.
Two hours later, the tech support person and I had backed up my laptop, restored it, returned my files to its hard drive, and installed a new print driver. Phew! The technical support person from India was about to let me go and I said, “STOP, don't hang up until I have the printed document in my hand.” I couldn't afford to spend another morning repeating this process. Last month, I made six phone calls for one problem, each time giving all the same details, starting at the beginning. The statement printed. I wanted to collapse on the couch for a few minutes of quiet but realized I should be halfway to school for early release. As I backed out of the driveway, the hard-won statement lay on my desk daring me to try and balance it before I bounce a check. But it had to stay there, threat or no threat. I prayed for God to reign over my bank accounts and for his grace until I could get back to my desk.
Later that night all I wanted to do after getting the kids to bed was drop into my own bed and sleep. But I needed to buy groceries and I was pretty sure I had made an error in my checkbook. I headed to my den to wrestle the statement into submission. Of course, it did not balance. My mom keeps the family checkbooks and I tried to remember the tips she gave me. Double the amount of the error, no half the amount of the error, perhaps I subtracted or added more than once? My head pounded. This was hopeless. I heard myself beginning to pray, "Dear Jesus, help me. You see me, don't you? I can't do this, and I need you to do it through me." I picked up a red pen and began again from the beginning. Miraculously it balanced.
I whispered a prayer of thanks to Jesus, grateful to have found the error and that it was small. How do people manage without Jesus? I will never know.
My exhausted body fell into bed, but my anxious mind just kept going. I remember, God is teaching me, grateful thoughts put anxiety to rest. I began thanking God for things by following the alphabet. Thank you for ALWAYS being with me. Thank you for BLESSING my efforts to take care of my finances. Thank you for CONTINUALLY providing for the kids and I. Sometime after feeling grateful for our community POOL, I drifted off to sleep.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7, NIV