I step away from my Excel spreadsheet. The columns remind me that despite God’s wonderful provision and my husband’s hard work, money is still as tight as ever. It’s tempting to express the same old frustrations about how we can’t seem to get ahead. I don’t want to get up and join her in dance. I want to make the numbers behave. But I can’t. I want to say no, I don’t have time. There is laundry to do and bills to pay. But instead I join her. For just a few minutes I step away from the grownup world, the material world, and I step into hers. We dance. A new dance. A different dance. Hers is a world of faith. There will always be apples, cheese, and raisins, peanuts and chocolate chips. She believes it. She dances in her pajamas and doesn’t worry that tomorrow her shoes might not fit.
I want to see the world the way she does and I feel ashamed because I realize that is how I am supposed to see the world. My expanding grocery bill is not a burden, but a blessing; a testament to my healthy, growing children. The columns of my Excel spreadsheet remind me that there is money because my husband has job. As I schedule yet another mortgage payment I lift a prayer of thanks that we have a place to live, small as it may be. I want to sing a new song, to dance a new dance. One of gratitude, of faith, of hope, of joy.
“Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things;”
Psalm 98: 1
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”