Not So Easy Money

My childhood friends owned Monopoly, while I had a cheaper, no-frills game called Easy Money. It was a Monopoly wannabe that used different rules, and it lacked the cute silver shoe and thimble playing pieces. I was jealous of the Monopoly crowd.

When it comes to money, I sometimes feel like a child who is familiar with the Easy Money game in a world dominated by Monopoly players. The salary my husband receives is decided on by the people we minister to, and its use is open to inspection. Even when the rules seem different, I need to guard my attitude toward the money.

Differences I know that it is hard for a layperson to understand what a pastor's job entails. But, as his wife, I see how my husband lays down his life for the congregation and the energy it takes. At congregational meetings where his salary is discussed, I think things like, "You should pay him a million dollars for doing this." I am thankful that we are not in a situation, like I know some of you are, where the church can barely afford to pay its pastor. I need to combat a sinful attitude of resentment toward the church and discontentment toward God.

My compulsion to justify purchases is another area where I differ from church people. I see it in other ministry families, too. I say things like, "Yes, it is a Kate Spade purse. I got it at a consignment shop. Ten years ago. On sale. At 50% off. With a $10 coupon." This is not an effective way of communicating a godly attitude toward money. Yes, I am trying to be a good steward of the money the congregation gives us. Yes, I want to be a good example to that same congregation. However, I need to acknowledge God's blessings in my life and repent of my touchiness and self-justification.

Commonalities Even though a pastors' wife has a different way of receiving money than other Christians, she shares their need to obey the Bible in regard to money. All of us are called to be good stewards of what we possess, make wise choices with our money and be content. Here are some commonalities.

• Store up treasures in heaven and not on earth. (Matthew 6:20) 
• Acknowledge that everything you have belongs to the Lord. (Haggai 2:8)
• Give cheerfully. (II Corinthians 9:6,7) 
• Be generous to those in need. (Proverbs 19:17)
• Practice contentment. (Hebrews 13:5)
• Thank God in all circumstances. (I Thessalonians 5:18)

Joys of Home Ownership

A blog called Desperate Preacher lists real-life horror stories of living in a parsonage. I never experienced desperation when I inhabited church-owned manses,* which were in the United States and abroad. But, I do feel that if a ministry family has the option of buying, rather than living in a manse, they should consider it. Having your own place can reduce your ministry stress levels.

More Freedom of Choice. Ministry, by necessity, limits some choices for the ministry family. Home ownership is one area where you can have more control. You may make certain decisions about your home's appearance and maintenance, without waiting for a committee decision or for a volunteer handy man to have enough spare time.

You can change things to reflect the way you want to live. For the house I own, I picked lime green for my front door, and it suits me just fine.

Less Thoughtless Requests. Ministry requires a high level of willing sacrifice and loving accommodation. But, some church members ask too much. Unthinkingly, they treat the manse like a public service center, especially when it is close to the church building. Having your own home a short distance away from the church cuts down on the requests for unlocking services, restroom facilities and a place to hang out while waiting for a ride home.  

Even though I am an advocate of offering hospitality and showing mercy, I think church members would be alarmed if surprise visitors stopped by their homes to ask for the same things they routinely request from the residents of the manse.

More Privacy. Ministry families need a haven where they can be themselves without fear of offending. Instead, the occupants of some manses have an uneasy feeling of being a guest in someone else's home. For them, a house or condo could provide a relaxing place that they call "home."

Lower expectations. Ministers expect to be evaluated on their faithfulness to the truth of the Bible and their loving concern for the flock. However, the ministry family should not have the added stress of being judged on the way they do or do not dust the furniture.

When the house belongs to the church, its members may feel entitled to unannounced inspections of their community property to make sure it is run the way they want it to be run. In addition, if the church is directly paying the pastor's heating and air conditioning bills, it might pass judgment on the temperature setting in the manse. Personal home ownership helps those in ministry avoid such pressures.

More financial security. Pastors retire. Pastors change churches. If they have equity in a home they own, they are able to buy another house in a new location.  This money is especially good to have when going to a new church that does not own a manse.

More emotional stability. Unfortunately, pastors are sometimes fired. Losing a job and the support of fellow Christians is hard enough without the pressure to move away with no income or home equity. The minister who lives in a manse has no claims on it once he is let go.

A pastor's wife, who lives in a manse, finds herself in a similar situation if her husband dies suddenly. She does have a caring congregation, but she needs a home, too. 

When church circumstances allow a pastor to buy his own home, he should seriously consider it. If nothing else, home ownership might keep the man's woeful story off the desperate preacher list. 

* Manse is a fancy Presbyterian word for parsonage. In spite of the way the word sounds, the actual house is not usually a mansion.

Lowly Lentils, Rich Hospitality

They were meatless before meatless was cool.

Close to fifteen years ago, this godly family of eight invited me to sit down in their tiny kitchen with a broken-dishwasher-turned-storage-unit, and we ate a bean casserole. Other times, we had lentils. Or chick peas. Or split peas. In an era of “Beef. It’s What’s For Dinner.” commercials, I never remember eating a single piece of meat in their home.

They weren’t vegetarian by conviction. As far as I know, they weren’t concerned about humane practices or cholesterol or growth hormones. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure they simply had no money.

But that didn’t occur to me at the time.

My weekly dinner date with this family arose out of two needs: they needed a babysitter during rehearsals for the local symphony; I needed fellowship. I was single, living hundreds of miles away from family and friends. Every dinner in my own kitchen was lonely—often take-out from a local deli eaten in haste and silence. As a single woman with a full-time job, I could afford expensive ingredients, restaurant meals, meat. But what I did not have was someone to share my table.

This family had plenty of dinnertime fellowship. Their six children were continually making noise: telling stories from their day, giggling, reciting memory verses, dropping their forks, spilling their drinks.  The parents broke in to ask questions, tease out a biblical application, mop up the milk. On that first night, the little ones all but licked the casserole dish clean, and I couldn’t get enough of their bubbling humanity.

So we reached an agreement. I would babysit once a week, free of charge, and they would invite me to eat dinner with them beforehand. I never missed the meat.

In ministry life—where hospitality costs are high and budgets are low—I have often remembered this family from my past. Honestly, their frugal bean inventions are faint in my mind. What I remember is the Christian fellowship. Pastor Albert Martin once said about hospitality: “It’s not the table; it’s the open door.” I have been blessed to walk through such an open door.

Christ calls himself the door (John 10:7-9,) and says the one who enters finds salvation. He calls himself the bread of life (John 6:35,) and says the one who eats will be more than satisfied. By opening the physical door of our home, we can offer guests a glimpse of the spiritual feast that Christ has spread for us.

The food on our table? Just crumbs by comparison.

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a young woman just starting life as a pastor’s wife. She was trying to figure out how to practice hospitality with few financial resources. This recipe for lentil tacos is for her and for all who open the door without much on the table. 

Because they swell as they cook, a 99-cent bag of lentils can easily feed as many people as 4 or 5lbs. of ground beef, and, if you serve them with love and a little spiritual conversation, no one will ever miss the meat.

Lentil Taco “Meat”

(adapted from Cook Without a Book: Meatless Meals by Pam Anderson)

2 ¼ c. brown lentils (1 lb. bag)
2 T. vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped fine
¼ c. chili powder
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. dried oregano
2 tsp. garlic powder
1 can (14.5 ounces) petite-cut diced tomatoes, do not drain
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ground pepper

In a large, covered pot, bring 5 c. of water and lentils to boil. Reduce to a simmer over medium and cook until lentils are tender and the water is almost completely absorbed, about 15 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. While the lentils are cooking, heat oil in another large pot over medium. Add chopped onions and sauté until tender, about 10 minutes. Add the chili powder, cumin, and oregano and sauté for 30 seconds. Add the lentils, garlic powder, and tomatoes. Cook over medium-low for 5 minutes. Add the salt and pepper (to taste).

Serve over flour tortillas with your favorite taco toppings.
Makes enough for 36 tacos, and the leftovers freeze well.

Maintaining Balance on the Teeter-Totter of Life

Teeter-totters on my childhood playground fascinated me. I knew nothing of physics, but I

observed that the heavier child needed to slide nearer the center of the board in order to have a balanced ride. Some danger was involved.* If an uncooperative playmate jumped off mid-flight without warning, his counterpart crashed to the ground. Adding more children to the equipment increased the load and required experimentation to get the equilibrium right.

In my adult life, I sometimes feel like I am riding a teeter-totter. I am having fun, but I struggle to get the work-home-ministry connections in balance. If someone bails out on me, or I add something to the mix, I am forced to adjust. This piece of playground equipment and my experience of working outside the home for 25 years show me that true balance is constantly fascinating, sometimes frightening and always fragile.

Starting work required creative experiments to achieve balance in my commitments. Praying for wisdom is always helpful in these situations. A thankful heart for God-given circumstances is key to a good attitude. My part in daily vacation Bible school switched from classroom assistant to refreshments baker. I couldn't host every itinerant missionary in my home, but I had an international mission field in my office. Instead of assembling care packages for college students, I donated postage money from my new income to send the parcels.

I quickly realized that I could not do it all. Discussions with my husband about our priorities were very important. Sacrifices were made for the sake of balance. I was able to pay for our children's tuition so that they could switch from public to Christian school. But, my husband had to step in to care for them on summer vacations while I was at work. At first, being a working woman, with all my important meetings, seemed glamorous. Then, I started missing the spontaneous meetings my church friends were enjoying.

I saw that excuses for unbalanced areas followed me from my stay-at-home life to the workplace. Repentance was, and still is, needed for these sins. I used to say, "I have so much to do at home that I don't have time to spend with God in Bible study and prayer." Now, I find myself substituting "work" for "home" in the previous sentence. My resentment of others didn't change when my work went outside the home. I think, "Why is she so irresponsible for her part in this ministry? I don't need this. I am busy, too."

Although a work-home-ministry balance is worth pursuing, it is not easily achieved. In addition, I need to monitor what I am doing because life changes all the time. I must employ creative thinking, prayer, sacrifice, repentance, a godly attitude, wise advice and thankfulness as I enjoy the "ride." 

* Note: When writing this posting, I searched for a real-life teeter-totter to photograph. I couldn't find one. Are we depriving children of a lesson in balance because it might not be totally safe?

Feeding the Multitude

My husband will tell you that I’m always a little anxious about having people over.

I’m not afraid that the food will be terrible, or that the house will be dirty, or that the meal won’t get to the table on time.

(Though I should probably be more afraid of all of the above. In a long line of Sunday lunches, I’ve had multiple oven malfunctions, several emergency ingredient substitutions, and, just last week, our guests were long gone by the time I realized one of them had been silently straddling my husband’s size 14 tennis shoes—abandoned and forgotten under the dining room table.)

But what I fear seems worse yet. I’m afraid of running out of food.

With good reason. I’m the girl who can’t put the leftovers in the correct Tupperware because I have no sense of volume. And math has never been my strong subject. So, figuring out how much chicken 4 or 10 or 20 people will consume? Not easy.

I’ve never actually run out. But that’s usually because I have three pans of extras waiting, useless, in the oven. (And my family, bless them, has to spend the next week repeating Sunday’s lunch, meal by meal, until it’s gone.)

This year, our small church started a new Wednesday night supper routine. Each family signs up for a week to feed the whole crowd, then eats stress-free while others cook the rest of the semester. The pastor (okay, my husband) set a few ground rules: nothing fancy, no need to include all the food groups, no dessert or sides required. The emphasis is on fellowship and enabling people to come straight from work to church.

Time to confront my old fear again. On my week, I could be feeding 15. I could be feeding 40. And I have a commitment immediately before the dinner hour, so my meal has to be make-ahead.

Thankfully, over the course of the year, the other families have served some great meals, and helped ease my anxiety. We've eaten soups and chilis, spaghetti, pizza, turkey sandwiches, lasagna, and sloppy joes. And no one (including me!) has run out of food yet.

My contribution? BBQ Pork. Cheap, do-ahead, crowd-pleasing, and if I have leftovers, they can easily translate to Mexican carnitas, chili, fried rice, more BBQ. . .

Pulled Pork

Adapted from Perfect Recipes for Having People Over by Pam Anderson
ISBN 978-0-618-32972-4

Serves 15-20, can multiply by making two roasts at the same time

3 T. brown sugar
3 T. paprika
1 ½ tsp. salt
1 ½ T. pepper, freshly ground is best
1 ½ T. garlic powder
1 bone-in pork butt roast (about 10 pounds)
½ c. Dijon mustard
1 T. liquid smoke seasoning
purchased BBQ sauce
sandwich buns

Place oven rack on lowest position. Heat oven to 250.

Mix first 5 ingredients in a small bowl. Place a rack over a foiled-line shallow baking sheet, place the pork on the rack and pat it dry. Combine the mustard and liquid smoke in a second bowl. Sprinkle the roast with a small amount of salt, brush with half the mustard mixture, and sprinkle with half the spice mixture. Flip roast over and repeat on the other side.

Place roast in oven and cook for 11-12 hours, until meat falls apart when poked with a fork. 

Remove from oven and let stand. Using a knife and/or two forks, remove the meat from the bone and shred into bite sized pieces.

Serve with the BBQ sauce and buns. Can be made ahead and reheated on low (a crock-pot works great.)

My turn is coming up again in a few weeks, so, please tell me, how do you feed a multitude?

The Bottom Line

In my childhood, it was always an exciting annual moment.

On that cold December night, sitting in the sanctuary, surrounded by friends, enveloped by the warmth of a fire, a church elder would approach the podium and speak with authority:

“We’d like to ask Pastor and his family to leave the room. We are ready to discuss the budget line item #14: pastor’s salary.”

And we’d all stand up, me from my seat with a gaggle of pre-teen girlfriends, my parents from their row, my brother somewhere, too. And we’d walk to through that heavy wooden swinging door in the hush, letting it close gently behind us. And then we’d wait in the chilly hall for the congregation to finish their deliberations—was it minutes? hours? before the elder cracked the door and re-admitted us to the warmth?

From my childhood, I don’t remember any actual dollar amounts, though I imagine they were written clearly on line 14, if I’d have cared to look. What I remember was the moment of mystery, the ringing in my ears in that quiet hallway.

We were here, and our friends were in there, and they were talking about us. Important stuff.

Now, grown-up and married to a pastor, I haven’t had quite the same December moments of wonder and awe. For the past few years, it seems like we’ve been out of town when the budget was proposed to the congregation, and, before that, my husband’s salary was determined by the officers without any church-wide discussion.

This year, however, I will be revisiting my hallway tradition. One of the elders has told us he’ll be asking us to leave the room at the annual meeting.

So, this year, I will again be standing in that outer room vacuum of space and time.

And when I’m not preventing my kids from wrestling each other to the ground from sheer boredom, I plan to fill the ringing silence with a prayerful heart. Because I know even more than I did as a child that this is important stuff.

The deliberations of our friends are going to have implications far beyond the mortgage and the car repairs. They will touch our hearts.

I’ll pray the words of the Lord’s prayer: “give us this day our daily bread” (Matt. 6:11). Our children’s catechism explains this as: “we are asking God to provide us with all that we really need.”

And I’ll pray Proverbs 30:8-9: “give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is needful for me, lest I be full and deny you and say, “Who is the Lord?” or lest I be poor and steal and profane the name of my God.”

What I really want this year, when that elder opens the door and lets our family back in, is to know that God has given wisdom and unity to his people. I want to be kept from temptation to evil and to learn to depend on God for all things. I want God to be glorified.

Only the Lord knows what number on line 14 can best accomplish that.

I don’t know who determines your salary: offering box in the narthex? budget committee in a locked room? lively and public congregational meeting? missions’ board of people you’ve never even met?

Whatever your situation, in this season of budget-making, I pray the Lord reminds us all that His glory is the only bottom line.

Generosity According to Joseph(s) Part 2

My meditations on cheerful giving brought me to the Biblical stories of three different Josephs: these men share the same name, each was extremely generous in a time of need, and each rebukes me for one of my excuses.

I began last week with Part 1. This week, I’ll deal with two further excuses and two more Josephs.

It’s Not My Responsibility.
We love to acknowledge the truth in the parable of the Samaritan. Those religious guys who saw someone in need and just walked on by? They are unquestionably the bad guys.

But when we walk down the road of ministry life and the sidewalk seems overpopulated by people in need, an excuse begins to seem reasonable: these people aren’t my problem. Or, at least, they aren’t all my problem.

That’s true. Somewhat.

Care for brothers and sisters is the responsibility of the entire church. (I asserted this in Part 1.) But it’s my heart attitude that bothers me: I’m looking for permission to start walking on the other side of the road.

Some needs just seem so far beyond the call of duty---fifteen miles away, in the pouring rain, five minutes after the kids have started their nap. And I don’t want to go.

A second Joseph, in Matthew 1, had a similar struggle. He wasn’t unkind, he didn’t want to cause his pregnant fiancée more trouble, but raising someone else’s child is a huge commitment, and they just weren’t his problem anymore.

Praise God for changing Joseph’s heart, and so fulfilling the prophecy concerning a Savior from David’s line!

In generosity of heart, Joseph assumed a responsibility not strictly his own. Can I do less?

It’s Not My Plan.
I have a freezer in my garage stocked with my homemade meals. It makes me feel better to have that dinner resource in case of unexpected events.

I’d guess many ministry wives are like this. We have helpers lined up for months in advance of surgery or childbirth. We are equipped with coupons and calculator for every trip to Walmart. We don’t fly by the seat of our pants. We’ve got a plan.

This is good. But it’s also a temptation to disparage the ones who haven’t planned quite as thoroughly. We are uncharitable in our attitude and think: You didn’t know that kids’ feet grow fast, taxes are due every April, and you need a vehicle to get to work? Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.
There’s a Joseph for this excuse, too. His name was Joseph of Arimathea, and he was a generous follower of Jesus.

You see, Jesus had been telling people for years that he was going to die, and, the closer that day got, the more often He talked about it. But it seems from the Scriptures that none of Jesus’ family or friends was prepared. On a spiritual level, of course, they were crushed and confused. And, on a practical level, they had nowhere to put Jesus’ body.

Enter Joseph: a man with a plan. In Luke 23, he takes the initiative to ask Pilate for the body, then he offers his property as a burial place, and—with his own hands—wraps Jesus’ body and puts his Lord in the tomb.

This third Joseph is marked by well-organized generosity. When everyone else is scattered and conflicted, he takes charge and gives his resources without grumbling. Many of us have the gifts to do the same.

We can all think of excuses to avoid being generous. But, in the face of them, the Lord offers striking examples of His people who were extraordinarily cheerful givers. Their generosity is precious in God's sight.

Elisha’s prayer was that the Lord would grant him a double portion of Elijah’s spirit. When it comes to generosity, I’m asking for a heart-share in a trio of Josephs.

Generosity According to Joseph(s)

Opportunities to be generous are in the next pew.

No matter the size of your church, I’d be willing to assert that you worship with someone who could use a ride, a new coat, a bag of groceries. I’m not talking about that man on the corner asking for change, I’m talking about the “household of faith” whom God says we are to be generous toward. (Galatians 6:10)

The presence of people in need is an opportunity for the entire Body. Ministry families don’t have to shoulder all the needs themselves. But, in reality, ministry families often know about more needs than the average person in the pew. We get more chances to mirror the priceless gift that Christ gave us. And, for the recipient, we can set an example of a generous life.

2 Corinthians 9:7 says plainly, “God loves a cheerful giver.” My recent meditations on cheerful giving brought me to the Biblical stories of three different Josephs. These men share the same name, each was extremely generous in a time of need, and each rebukes me for one of my excuses.

(A word about my hermeneutic: Biblical characters are not merely good examples These men and women have big purposes in God’s redemptive history. But they are also useful teachers about how God is often pleased to work in the lives of His children.)

This is not a thesis about how Christ’s community can most effectively address poverty. This is a confrontation of the excuses our own grudging hearts can throw in the way of the generous spirit that should be our default.

It’s Not My Fault.
Sometimes people are in need as a direct result of their own sin or the sins of family members. The children who have no school clothes because their dad is a deadbeat. The woman who needs a ride because she gave her car to her selfish adult child.

Faced with this kind of need, and to my shame, I can start to think like this: my husband works hard. Because someone else doesn’t, we are meeting our family’s needs and theirs, too. If everyone would just pull his own weight around here. . . .

And in chapter 45 of the book of Genesis, God has my rebuke.

You know the story: Joseph, son of Jacob, was sold into slavery by his brothers. While in Egypt, he interprets a dream from the Lord warning him to prepare for a seven-year famine. Joseph wisely stores food and is therefore in a position to help his brothers when hunger drives them into his arms.

It’s telling that Pharaoh’s dream was given initially for the benefit of the people of Egypt, and God’s chosen ones were left in the dark. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the brothers’ sin caused their need.

But these brothers, who sold Joseph, who then didn’t receive wisdom from the Lord, who were in need---found generosity. Joseph fed them.

What do I learn from Joseph? Sin doesn’t necessarily disqualify people from my generosity. And, in fact, the Lord can use generosity to bring repentance.

Next week, I’ll address two further excuses and two more Josephs.

Render to Caesar, but Plunder the Egyptians (Lessons for a New Tax Year)

It’s January, and already those numbered forms are piling up. W-2. Schedule SE. Publication 2043. It can only mean one thing: taxes.

The Bible directs Christians to pay taxes to the civil government. Jesus says it in Luke 20:25: “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” Paul also says it in Romans 13:6-7: “you also pay taxes, for the authority are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed. . . .”

Am I happy that my tax dollars are used to fund abortions and teach evolutionary biology? No. But do I think that the early Christians were happy that their tax money was used to purchase saint-eating lions for Roman amusement? Hmmm.

In every age, under every type of government, we bow to the command of the King of Kings: pay your taxes.

But there is another principle for a new tax year that I, half-jesting, call “plundering the Egyptians.”

Inspiration for Support Letters

Dear Letter Writer,

We get Christmas letters that talk about a 2400 SAT score, and we see Facebook postings with news of meeting an important person. After reading these, we might think that a good ministry support letter should similarly include big successes like 100 people brought to Christ or the completion of a national vaccination program. In reality, most people (ministry women included) are not living fascinating lives worthy of the CNN homepage.

Although the task of writing ministry support letters can intimidate us, we do need the prayer and financial support of others. I have experience writing ministry support letters and offer a few hints for you.

Don't Keep Up with the Kardashians, Part II

     Recent news of Kim's Kardashians failed, brief marriage makes me wonder what she feels now about spending $10 million on the wedding. Often, when we spend lots of money on things that don't last, we are distraught, especially if there is a burden of debt associated with that spending.
     Some circumstances that cause debt, such as serious illness, loss of employment and under-funded ministry support, are unavoidable.
     However, before you acquire new debt by spending money that you don't have on something that you don't need, stop and count the cost. Start with a proper view of God and continue with thinking biblically about finances. 
     Look before you leap. Seek God's guidance before going into debt for big-ticket items like houses, cars, electronics and college tuition.
    

Don't Keep Up with the Kardashians, Part I

One cannot open a web browser without glimpsing a photo of the Kardashians, a celebrity family with a lavish lifestyle and the distinction of being famous for being famous. One of their ventures was the fee-laden Kardashian Kard, which purported to teach teens to spend responsibly.

Most ministry women are not teenagers, but they are tempted to amass debt. According to CreditCards.com, an educational site, the average American household has $15,799 in credit card debt. In addition, the site's research found that very few people are willing to talk about it. Unfortunately, a position in ministry is not protection against society's ills.

Debt can be the result of a variety of difficulties. Sometimes, a financial problem is a symptom of deeper issues. While popular magazines and Christian blogs abound in advice in managing the debt, few discuss misplaced priorities. This posting (Part I) explores the importance of a Christian mindset for those who spend money because someone needs to talk about debt in a Christian way.

May I Buy New Clothes?

Last spring, I bought a dress. Every time I wore it to church, someone told me how cute it was.

I found it at the thrift store. It cost $1.

And, with each compliment I received, I would say, “Thanks. It was $1.” I apparently said this frequently. Last time I was complimented, a nearby woman immediately chimed in: “Tell her how much you paid for it, Megan.”

Why do I do that?

Why do I need to define every purchase as a bargain? Is it sinful pride in my frugality? Probably. But I also think it’s a defensive maneuver in front of the people who pay our bills.

Another Crack in the Bricks

The foundation of our house is cracking. Or sinking. Or shifting. Or whatever it is foundations do. I’m sure of it. I don’t know much about foundations, but I do know they are expensive to repair and a bad one can kill the value of your house. So every time a door sticks or I notice a small crack in a window frame, I feel a lump of native Yazoo clay settle in my stomach.

Recently, as I was bemoaning the crack in (a neighbor’s!) house (if she’s got problems, we will, too!) the Holy Spirit revealed my blindness.Our house is not an investment guaranteed by the Lord; it—and every “thing” the Lord gives us—is a gift and a tool. The true foundation of our house is in eternity, and another crooked doorframe can’t change that. Our house may worthless tomorrow, but it is immeasurably useful today.

Fun Without Lots of Funds

Even if you don't expect to get rich from ministry, you feel really poor sometimes. These discoveries come randomly. You may look down to see that you are eating your second Ramen noodle dinner of the week, or you find yourself Googling "children's shoes that grow with their feet." You need some fun!

Those who pour themselves out in ministry need rest and relaxation. With some creative thinking, you can have fun without spending a lot. Here are some ways to entertain yourself.

Multiple Choice: a) Money, b) Work, c) Time

I am only human. I may have eyes in the back of my head (I am a mommy to preschoolers, after all) but my superpowers end there. Usually, I’m just as limited as the next girl. So I’ve decided it’s okay to be limited; especially when it comes to feeding people.

My philosophy comes from a quirky cookbook entitled How to Cook Without a Book by (pastor’s wife) Pam Anderson. She begins each chapter with a little ditty to teach a cooking method; for desserts, she writes: