When Faith and Fear Collide

There's this thing I do.

This thing where I don't recognize God's provision. This thing where I still freak out and try to take care of myself, and all the while God is standing there, waving a big flag trying to get me to notice him. And I'm staring down at the dirt, trying to write my plans in the dust. How do I miss these things?

It happened this week. I absolutely freaked out about money. I mean freaked. Granted, it was a little bit of an emotional week in general, but money set me over the edge. I don't think my heart stopped racing for three straight days. There were multiple times I sat down to figure out how I was going to financially make it through the next six months of my life.

My creative process (or in this case budgeting process) is a little funny. I go grab a stack of white, plain, computer paper and a big pen or sharpie. And I get my little iPhone calculator out and do some math. I make lists. And lists. And versions of lists. And sub lists. And I have arrows. And diagrams. And titles. I was googling Dave Ramsey notes, multiplying monthly donor amounts, dividing up stipends, estimating loan payments, and absolutely giving myself a headache.

After triple checking, I realized that because of some recent changes, even with living on the most minimal budget, I wasn't going to make it. And it's not even Squad Leading – if all my monthly donors committ to sticking with me through the New Year, my time on the field is fully funded. (You'd think that would have been a clue that God's in the business of providing for me.) But my personal account? The one where I, ya know, pay my bills. I wouldn't be able to pay them starting in November. I've already saved in my piggy bank (literally) for car insurance and such. But my school loan – that awful, burdensome debt – I won't be able to pay it.

With a shot to the stomach, I immediately put my palms over my eyes and curled my fingers in. I brought my hands together and wiped the tears across my nose. I couldn't make it work. No matter how many budget categories I cut out, including savings and emergency fund. Maybe it was about time I quit and got a "real job."

"I have to leave Adventures," I thought. Maybe I shouldn't Squad Lead? I must be doing something wrong. It doesn't matter how on time I pay my bills, or how generous I try to be, or how I like, never go shopping. November was coming, and so was the end. The end of the best job I've ever had. The end of finally living my life dream. The end of being a missionary. "My supporters have gotta give up on me sooner or later."

Commence freak out.

Actually, commence walking up a hill and then having a panic attack. A kinda scary one. The one where it hurts to breathe and the left side of your chest hurts really bad. And then you freak out more – you get the picture. After driving home from work, I had to make a decision. I've freaked out about my health before. I've walked in fear before. I've never actually HAD to trust God with my health, because I had amazing health insurance and no matter what the bill was – even $20,000 – I only had to pay $25. So, I'd let myself freak until a doctor told me to stop.

But not this time. This time, I had no insurance. In fact, it had ended a mere 8 hours before my little episode. I was driving and I had a choice. Drive to one of my mentors house to pray and kick fear's butt, or drive to the Urgent Care clinic. I had a choice. Faith. Or fear.

I'd like to say I chose faith in that moment. I don't know if it was anything to brag about though. I did choose to go to Alycea's house and pray. But I'd hardly call it some amazing act of faith. It was bathed in fear. Fear of my life changing that day (which it did), fear about money and losing my dream, and then now fear about my health. FEAR. Because I couldn't control my life. During our time praying, I realized I had a decision to make again. Faith or fear. And during the decision to choose faith, the pain and anxiety went away. Well, at least most of the anxiety.

"Be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

I just kept hearing that phrase over and over in my head. I had to make a choice. Faith or fear. And I had to renew my mind and stubbornly choose faith before I was tranformed.

I don't know why I didn't apply it to money earlier.

I sat on Facebook, composing a status about how I needed help to pull this thing off. But after some internal debate, I found myself typing a thank-you to my supporters instead. A thank you. Huh, renewing my mind.

As I began to recall how God has literally always come through for me, I started to feel my spirit settle. Yes, budgeting is great. Yes, tithing and generosity are great. Yes, we have to be good stewards. Yes, we have to pay our bills. But when we do our best, and we still can't make ends meet, God gets to show up. He gets to provide.

Someone once told me that it's good to live with a little bit of
impossibility in your life. That way you have to rely on God.

I started to think: I've always eaten. Even if it is sometimes Ramen noodles or rice and beans, I've always had food. Literally every meal. My entire life. I've always had shoes. I've always had a bed. I've always had shelter. I was fully funded for the Race before Training Camp. That's unheard of. I've always been able to pay every single bill on time. I've been fully funded during my time at Adventures. I'm fully funded for Squad Leading. And this is my favorite, I've always ALWAYS been able to be generous. The money's always been there. Most times I'm not even sure how it's gotten into my account. But it's always been there. Because God's a good Dad and he provides for his kids.

And then I opened my daily devotional, Jesus Calling. This was that night's thought. Oh hey, Jesus.

It hit me again when I got a package from my Dad in the mail the other day. I started thinking about how he provides for me. No, he doesn't all pay my bills or spoil me. But he provides for me. And now that I'm an adult and taking care of responsibilities, he gives me good gifts. Sometimes it's a big box of seven bags of granola. He didn't even know I was running low on food. Other times it's a box of vitamin powder. Other times it's a gift card to Starbucks. My dad takes care of me and I know he'd never let me starve. But he goes beyond that and gives me good gifts.

Don't I believe God will do that too? If my imperfect, earthly Dad is good, how much better is God?

So, I had to make a choice with finances. Am I going to choose fear? Or am I going to choose faith? Am I going to freak out and be a mess? Or am I going to do my best and let God take care of the rest? Am I going to figure life out with earthly knowledge? Or am I going to be transformed by the renewing of my mind and have peace that surpasses all understanding?

We've got a choice to make. I choose faith. What about you?