I don’t know the exact year when it happened, but I remember like it was yesterday the rude awakening. Not literally, of course, but the absolute shock and horror of discovering that money has to be deposited into the bank in order for checks to be cashed. I mean, this was a huge blow to my sense of financial security as a young child. The worst thing I could imagine was that my parents might run out of checks, but I knew my mom could just order some more from the bank because I’d seen her do it many times before. So, imagine my devastation to find out that my parents actually had to have their own money in the bank to cover the checks they were writing. What a bummer!
I’m certain that my childhood was filled with other similar discoveries, many of them pertaining to the existence (or not) of fictional characters like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. However, when I got into college, I had another one of those dreadful”aha” moments. Because I was attending a local university, I chose to live at home with my parents to save a little money. However, that meant I had to get up way too early in order to get to class on time. But not to worry, because I quickly learned that there were always empty parking spots very near the building where most of my classes were held. The fact that they were “faculty parking” spots initially gave me pause, but then I thought better of my concern and zipped right in–over and over and over again. What possible harm could there be in breaking a campus law? Is the campus police going to chase me down and take me to campus jail? I think not–or so I thought. Then came the day for grades to be posted and, well, my grades were not available. They weren’t simply delayed, nor were they somehow lost–they were UNAVAILABLE. How is that even possible? If you, the sweet secretary in the dean’s office, have them in your computer, they are absolutely AVAILABLE. They were, on the other hand, unavailable to me because I had apparently incurred some serious parking ticket debt. Unbeknownst to me, the campus police are actually legit in their own little collegiate world–a world I was seriously trying to graduate out of. This proved to be yet another sobering clash with reality as I wrote a check–backed up by real money from my own bank account–to the registrar’s office of our local university.
Fast forward a bit to dating and marriage. I was twenty-three, still living at home (a.k.a. spoiled brat), and ready for that fairy tale marriage when I met my husband. I was first introduced to him at church–so surely that’s a good sign, right? He was handsome, though a bit on the quiet side, but he was wearing a classic business suit with a fancy pen in his coat pocket. That could only mean one thing–he must be rich. Well, I’m not going to share all the details of our little story because, among other reasons, he will probably read this someday. But suffice it to say, neither one of us was rich. And I had a lot to learn about life, love, and stretching paychecks.
It’s tough growing up, discovering that some of your most deeply held beliefs just aren’t rooted in truth. I think perhaps it’s the lifetime of fender benders that prepare us for the more brutal collisions with reality. Strangely enough, the collision is often within ourselves. It’s the result of expectations met with disappointment or challenges that seem exciting on the one hand but too difficult on the other. And the tension is excruciating. I’ve recently been in a few crashes of my own as I entered a new season in life. The impact of these collisions has torn away layers of the facade that helped to conceal my insecurities. I have come to see and know things about myself that I had rather leave hidden away in the dark. In fact, until recently, I stayed safely tucked in my own fortress, the place of safety and security where I got to call most of the shots and establish all the boundaries. In my fortress, there’s been no risk, no fear, no failure. And I mostly liked it that way. But God moved me out of my fortress. Sure, He used a few key people to throw me in the back of the pick-up truck and haul me away, but I’m certain it was His doing. And though I am still aching from the bumps and bruises, I am grateful for a Father who was not willing to leave me in my fortress–where there is no risk, no fear, no failure…and no purpose.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress; I will never be shaken . Psalm 62:2