Right now many of us take for granted the freedom we have. Freedom to vote or not to vote. To rent a home or to buy. To get married or not to get married. To have children or not to have children. To attend a private school or a public school. To drive a car or take the bus. Most of us can walk out of our homes to a job we love or maybe dislike. We have freedom of choice even down to the toothpaste selection at our local store. But many in our world do not.
Today, as we celebrate the 4th of July; America’s day of independence from a tyrannical government almost 250 years ago, may we remember who we are.
A nation of ingenuity, resourcefulness, and prosperity. A nation that has come to the rescue of other nations and protected ours with vigor. May we also open our eyes that our country became prosperous and fruitful on the backs of black men and women stripped of their freedom?
We own land that was once occupied by people who some could argue took care of it better than we have. We can’t turn back time but maybe we can take note and offer empathy, grace, kindness, and equality to those this country has wronged.
If you are a bible reader, like me, the Gospels talk a lot about freedom from slavery, and setting the captives free. We can argue that God has the power to do such things but I strongly believe that God expects humans to be the ones who set the captives free as well. Especially, prosperous and free humans such as the majority of Americans.
I believe it is important for those who fall into this category to look outside themselves and see the need for freedom in our country and the greater world. For us who are privileged to stop whining about who is doing what to whom, but to take action. How do we do this? Here are a few ideas I have found helpful in my life.
Give Volunteer Read Speak Up Befriend Vote
Give Give to organizations that fight injustices such as human trafficking, gun violence, homelessness, food insecurity, and genocide, Just to name a few.
Volunteer
Volunteer at local food banks, shelters, and programs that support children’s literacy, pregnancy care and family planning, convalescent homes, and many more that my mind can’t recall quickly right now.
Read
Read authors that don’t look like you, talk like you, or even live like you. Read authors of color and from walks of life that you have never found yourself in. This is one of the best ways to have empathy for the injustices of the world when we can proverbially walk in someone’s shoes by seeing their point of view.
Speak Up
Speak up for those who are being treated wrongly in your neighborhood, your country, and the world.
Befriend
Befriend those that you do not understand. This is one of the hardest ones because it’s uncomfortable. I live in a community with a large population of Chaldean and Arabic families. Sometimes their way of life frustrates me but over the years I have found myself empathizing with these beautiful people who have had to leave their homes and live somewhere foreign. We’ve exchanged food and life tips, and I’ve seen their children go from scared little toddlers to lovely humans contributing to their community.
Vote
If you are a citizen of this country, it is one of the only ways your voice can be heard. If you have become a pessimist and think voting is a waste of time. Do not do it for the outcome, do it to act on the freedom you have that may one day be taken away. There is no guarantee we will stay a free world forever and the only way we ensure that freedom is to exercise it.
These are not perfect or easy solutions but if each of us consistently seeks to do at least one consistently, the world could be a better place, one step at a time. As we let off fireworks and gather with loved ones may we ponder these things. Today, it may be hard to celebrate this country we live in, she’s been a little off her game lately. All in all, may we recognize what she has to offer, be grateful for where we live, and spread freedom to others.
Happy Birthday, America!
This is dedicated to my adult children: May you see a world that has the potential for healing and freedom for centuries to come.
I stumbled upon a journal entry from 2016, where, for some reason, I had penned a letter to my future self to be opened a decade later. At the time, I was 38 years old, and as I read through it today, I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of writing to my 48-year-old self.
Recalling the juncture my life was at, I remember that moment in time, stepping into a bi-vocational career, feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of leaving behind the stay-at-home mom life I had cherished for 14 years.
feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of leaving behind the stay-at-home mom life
Transitioning to a 9-5 desk job at a local university while also taking on the role of a part-time worship leader was daunting, to say the least. I had zero admin experience but enough customer experience to get me the job. I held onto a quote by Christine Caine: “God doesn’t call the prepared; he prepares the called.”
As I read the page intended for my 48-year-old self, I felt a surge of pride knowing that my eldest would soon graduate from college, with her two siblings following closely behind. My 38-year-old self had expressed hopes of seeing her kids in college, perhaps even married by then. I chuckled as I read that line to my husband, relieved that we still have two years until that “expiration date,” leaving the jury out on that status.
I had wished for myself to visit Italy and explore parts of Europe, a dream I’d harbored since high school. Despite numerous attempts, it seemed elusive until last spring, when Jon and I embarked on a 28-day adventure through London, Paris, and Italy. Dining on French cuisine under a Parisian moon or cruising through Tuscany’s picturesque hills—experiences beyond surreal.
In 2016, when I embraced the bi-vocational lifestyle, I had no clue how to sustain it. Some days were challenging, others incredibly rewarding. Working in higher education introduced me to remarkable students who inspired me to be my best self while leading worship in our home church allowed me to collaborate with immensely talented individuals. There were days when both roles seamlessly intertwined, and others when the weight felt unbearable, juggling deadlines and responsibilities.
A month ago, the chapter of worship leading abruptly closed. The news hit me like a sudden amputation—no discussion, just an abrupt end to 16 years of serving our church community.
no discussion, just an abrupt end to 16 years of serving our church community
Despite the shock, I cherished the memories: working alongside my husband, watching my son excel as a drummer, and witnessing my daughter’s musical prowess and leadership. The abruptness left no room for goodbyes, only a hollow explanation.
Reflecting on this letter, crafted eight years ago, reminds me of life’s unpredictability. Since then, my father passed away, my mom remarried, close friends faced divorce, and my father-in-law continues his battle with cancer. My children, once youngsters, are now young adults, preparing to leave the nest. Yet, amid uncertainty, I’m grateful for the foresight to write that letter. Embracing the challenges of the bi-vocational life that paved the way for unforeseen opportunities.
Embracing the challenges of the bi-vocational life paved the way for unforeseen opportunities.
I’ve learned that nothing is wasted in the Kingdom of Heaven. Even toxic leadership experiences can be redeemed, shaping me into a better leader. While I can’t predict the future, writing a letter of well wishes to oneself serves as a poignant reminder of life’s essence. As Paul wrote in Romans; our sufferings produce endurance, character, and hope. I eagerly anticipate what lies ahead, knowing that every season, sweet or bitter, holds a purpose.
I might have an inkling of what’s next and anticipate God to do what God does; create an ending better than I could have ever imagined.
When have you had a moment to reflect on where you have come from and where you are going?
I have been digging into this question with my therapist and the answers aren’t’ really there yet. It could be that as a kid, I moved around A LOT. Before I graduated high school my family moved to 7 different states and in one five-year period, we lived in 5 different houses. I’ve wondered how my mother stayed sane packing up a household with 4 kids is beyond me. As an adult, that level of instability has made me dislike change but when I was a kid I saw the adventure in it. I remember with each new location what adventure could be had.
For example, one of the first moves that I can recall as a 5-year-old was our move from Bend, Oregon to Delta, Colorado. The house we rented was situated behind a beautiful apple orchard a block from my grandmother’s house where we could have Sunday Supper (That’s lunch if you’re not a southerner) and experience her incredible biscuits and gravy or ride in our grandpa’s tractor to our heart’s content. Eight months later we moved to Cheyenne, Wyoming where in five years we relocated houses five different times.
Not my grandmother’s actual biscuits. 🙂
That year I started kindergarten. I remember I had the most amazing kindergarten teacher and I also remember that we moved into a house with a walk-in bird cage to which my dad brought home a duck for us to care for. I don’t remember what happened to that duck but I do remember that cleaning up bird poop was not fun.
Me in the lovely rainbow shirt with my eldest brother, eldest sister and little brother in front of the bird-cage house. The elderly woman is our “Aunt Dot”.
The following spring we moved a few miles across town to a neighborhood that backed up to the Air Force Base. We had a fabulous backyard with a view of the runway. My little brother and I learned if we stood on top of the trash bins we could see jets take off almost every day and antelope run in the hills.
A year later we moved a mile down the road into a two-story duplex that we occupied entirely. It had two kitchens, an upstairs and downstairs! Oh, the fun we had making cookies in the downstairs kitchen while my mom cooked dinner upstairs. We moved yet again as I entered third grade. This house we stayed at to help out a friend while they were deployed. It had an oil pit in the garage that my dad really liked. Plus we were across the street from my elementary school so my walk was just a hop, skip, and a jump away.
The final home we lived in during the five years in Cheyenne was a three-story single-family home with throw-up-green shag carpet
The final home we lived in during the five years in Cheyenne was a three-story house single-family home with throw-up-green shag carpet but a backyard that was epic for making snow forts. That year we ALL had our own room and I got my own pink phone and Barbie mansion. I think both were hand-me-downs but I had no clue and loved them both so much!
Just before the end of my 5th-grade year, we moved to what was one of my favorite locations of my childhood, Lake Havasu City, AZ. We lived there in my formative tween years which had us a few miles to the beach and a view of the water from our kitchen window. I could wear a bathing suit and shorts all day long because with temperatures of 100+ you were either at the beach or in a pool. I went barefoot to Sunday night church sometimes just to see if anyone would notice and they didn’t.
Lake Havasu City- the beginning of my love affair with a water view.
I had my own room with a door that led to our courtyard. I felt like a princess in that room. My friends during those years were some of the best people and it was the first time in my young life that nothing changed; not my friends, my church, my home, or my school. I look back now and it was the first time there was stability that I could recall.
it was the first time there was stability that I could recall.
With a month left of my 8th grade year my parents broke the news to my little brother and I that we were moving from Lake Havasu City, AZ to Indio, CA. Just days before this news my Junior High Choral teacher asked me and to be a part of a high school quartet that would sing the National Anthem at all the athletic events. My sister who was graduating high school had had this privilege all 4 years of her high school career so I was ecstatic to follow in her footsteps and to sing with my 4 best friends was the icing on the cake!
My parents assured us that we could finish out the school year in Lake Havasu and have the summer to acclimate in our new city. My brother who is two years my junior would be entering 6th grade that upcoming school year, which in California was the first year of middle school. The thought of me starting high school in a new state sounded devestating.
I grieved that move for weeks. I cried in choir class with my singing buddies who huddled together trying to think of the good side to this. I cried in the church youth group thinking that no other church could be as fun and inclusive as this one was. I cried when my boyfriend gave me a real gold cross chain and thought that was really the end. I cried at home and refused to pack the kitchen utensils and genuinely pouted for days thinking my little 14-year-old world was over.
Two weeks after school let out we moved to Indio, CA where my dad would take on his second pastorship. We moved without my older siblings since they were both in college. As we entered the city limits in the Uhaul truck, I noticed that Indio was dry and barren with not even a Walmart yet. It was not much different from the little town we had come from in the sense of size and amenities but even worse, it was without a lake. Any beach was hours away in either LA or San Diego and no one we knew yet had a pool even though the temps in Indio were almost the same as in Arizona. I moaned to myself, “How could my parents bring us here?
Eight weeks after moving to Indio my mom signed me up for a tennis camp called “Pam’s Tennis On Wheels” in order for me to get to know some kids in the neighborhood. I met a few people one being a tall 9th grader by the name of Jon. I spoke to him a few times but my attention was occupied by the fact that, at the moment, I was in “love” with a boy that attended the church my dad was now pastoring.
I began my freshman year at a private school. It was a tough year being the new kid at such a small school. Thankfully, I made amazing friends that year but with the news of a news high school opening we decided that was where I would go next. It would begin as a small school beginning with 9th and 10th grader only and each year adding a new freshman class. A few of my friends from the private school would attend with me and we all were excited about the change.
On the first day of school as I entered the brand new courtyard, I recognized a tall sophomore with curly hair and a cross earring. I remembered meeting him at the tennis camp I had attended over a year ago but couldn’t remember his name. I went right up to him and said, “Do I know you?” It took us a minute but we pieced together where we had previously met. Over the course of that year we would become best friends. Three years later we would graduate from that high school along with our classmates as the first graduating class and five years later we would marry.
Our wedding day, June, 1999
As of today we have had a stable life here in San Diego, only moving four times in 20-plus years. First to our new apartment as a married couple. Then after Jon graduated college, we relocated to a downtown apartment with my sister then from there we moved to an apartment east of downtown as we went from just the two of us to five of us. Our final move to date was when we purchased a three-bedroom condo that we have called home for over fifteen years!
I truly believe that if God had not allowed my parents to change jobs and move us from the little beach town of Lake Havase to Indio, CA I never would have met my husband. What felt like the end of the world became the beginning of my current reality. In those early years of marriage and starting a family Jon would help open a hospitality business that he continues to work for all while supporting me in my entrepreneurial endeavors. As of June, 2022 we have celebrated 23 years of marriage and I can say without a doubt he is my very best friend. Yet, when change comes I pout, I panic, I moan, and I complain that I can’t see what around the corner. Why do I still do that?
My amazing family!
Yet, when change comes I pout, I panic, I moan and complain that I can’t see what’s around the corner. Why, why do I do that?
Recently, I have been reading the book of Exodus about Moses and the Israelites enslaved by Egypt for a class on the Pentateuch (That means the first 5 books of the bible if you don’t know Latin) and those poor Israelites get such a bad rap. First, they are released from 400-year bondage in Egypt and escape with their lives while being led by a “pillar of cloud” by day and a “pillar of fire” by night, which the book tells us was the Spirit of God in that pillar leading them. Days after leaving Egypt, the Egyptian army begins pursuing the Israelites and soon they are trapped between the army and the Red Sea. Moses raises his rod and the miracle of the Red Sea parting is before their eyes. They are able to safely cross then look back and see the sea crashing around the army and killing the enemy.
Can you believe one of the first things out of the now free Israelite’s mouths after that miracle is “Oh, how we wish that the Lord had just put us to death while we were still in the Land of Egypt.”(Exodus 16:3) Oh wait, they did remember to worship and praise God for the miracle they witnessed but just three days later they soon began to complain. I read that and I am like, “Sheesh, ya’ll, get a clue!” But then I ponder their reaction and realize that in the same breath I have seen God do amazing things in my life and provide in ways I never asked for but doubt that he has my best interest in mind.
When things don’t go how I want them to or how I see fit I whine, complain, and say,” God, where are you? What am I supposed to do? How could you let this happen?”
90 days after the Israelites get a bit settled, God “sits them down” if you will, and gives them their road map on how to live among each other and survive the desolate landscape they are in. (Exodus 20) God shares with them the covenant that had been in the works for a very long time and the laws that would set them apart but also bring humanity and dignity to their tribes since the world around them was so barbaric. This was also after God had led them away from the Philistines because God knew they would run right back to Egypt if they had to immediately fight for the land promised to them. (Exodus 13:17)
I won’t go into the nitty gritty details but if you want to go read the story of the Israelites I encourage you to start reading Exodus chapter two. I can honestly say, I think I give the Israelites a lot of grief for being so quick to complain after experiencing miracles when I know I am guilty of the very same thing.
Here’s the good news…
When it comes to worry in the Bible, scholars say that “Fear Not” is mentioned 365 times and Jesus himself tells us not to worry and reminds us of God’s provision in his New Testament teachings. Jesus says “Do not Worry” five times alone in Matthew 6:25-24. Isn’t it good to know that God knew it would be something we struggled with? It’s in our human nature to not trust what we cannot see. It is in our nature to think about the worst-case scenario instead of focusing on the blessings that occurred.
I know I forget to count the times I have seen plans go better than I could have ever foreseen. I hope that when you feel overwhelmed with the unknown like I do, or like the Israelites did, you will remember that there are enough uplifting scriptures alone to acknowledge your worry and that no matter what comes around the corner you can trust that God will provide a path for you. And like the Psalmist said, “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:6)
This is the conclusion of my 4-part post. I am grateful to those of you who tracked this story from day one.
My return home continued with a bit more travel drama with flights delayed and in turn, had me flying to Detroit where I spent 8 hours in the Detroit airport before flying directly to San Diego. The time in the airport allowed me to begin writing this blog and flush out my thoughts on the adventures I recently experienced. That Sunday night I arrived home just in time for my sweet family to whisk me off to our favorite pizza joint, “Pizza Port,” for dinner and let me share all the detail of the last 24 hours.
These two were all ears!
The man who says “yes” to my crazy
In the immediate hours following this experience, the hardest part was sitting in the reality that not everyone responded emphatically. Upon returning home I had the opportunity to explain in more detail to my friends but only one sent me money. I was surprised at how even my closest friends or colleagues weren’t affected and seemed to only take it as a good story. I was so grateful to my sisters and mother-in-law who helped me recoup the remaining amount of what I had committed to cover but it saddened me how many people said they couldn’t help. Not $10 or $5. Nothing. Some never even replied. There were a few valid reasons not to reply, for example, a colleague was getting married that afternoon which I kind of forgot about. However, it was surprising to me that more said, “no” than “yes.”
I posed this dilemma to Pastor Rich Villodas from New Life Church in Queens during a book-launch Zoom and he responded with the sobering reminder that as a pastor he deals with it all the time. People do not give or volunteer or see the needs of their church and their community on a regular basis. It was a reality check that people are not always going to be where I am in my faith journey of seeking Jesus and each journey looks different for each of us. As I continue to mull over all that transpired; from the moment I decided to book my trip to Nashville to the moment I returned home,
I thought about the fact that if I had flown home Saturday afternoon I would not have encountered Kevin in Nashville.
I would not have seen what Jesus could do when I really seek what he is after; loving people even when it feels uncomfortable and seeing God provide even when I may not have asked him to.
A few days after arriving back in San Diego and getting into the rhythm of life my husband asked me to stop at our local grocery store and immediately the face of the homeless man I saw weekly came to mind. I wondered if I would see him and if I did, should I approach him. When I walked up to the storefront I was happy to see that he was there sitting on the stoop in the shade.
I walked up to him and said, “Hi, what’s your name?” He replied, “Dwight.”
I promptly sat down and began to chat a bit about where he was from he asked me what I was cooking for dinner that night and while I was talking a kind lady handed Dwight $8 in cash. I asked if I could get him something to eat when I went shopping and he was honest and said he needed cash for a place to stay. I told him I would see what I could do and at that moment my daughter walked up after introducing her to Dwight, she and I went into the store to grab what we needed for the evening meal. Upon checking out I got $10 cash back and gave it to Dwight on my way out. I shared with my daughter that I cannot do that every time, I know, but I believe I have to when I can, and today I could.
Since my trip to Nashville, I have been in contact with Kevin. The money that I gave him got him through to almost the last week of June when his weekly rental was shut down by police due to too much illegal activity. That same day he suffered another heat stroke which put him in the ER. The nurses there encouraged him to fill out his social security information to begin receiving his social security check. He was elated to discover that at his age he could receive 70% on a weekly basis and 100% when he turns 72. This income would allow him to work indoors with a part-time job and not work a laborious job at the age of 66. I was able to get Kevin a modest hotel room that night and after a good night’s rest, he informed me he was off to see a pastor in the city who would help him fill out paperwork to receive Social Security and find a place to stay. As of today, he is living in a, “cool, cool, cool air-conditioned trailer,” and is opening a bank account so he can get his check faster rather than having it delivered to a local church.
If you’re like me you can feel jaded by all of the scams in this world or people who take advantage of kindness. For me, I asked Jesus to help me see people and he came through. Not only the homeless man or woman on the corner but my co-worker who sometimes causes me angst yet still needs my kindness or current needs in my community in a way that only Jesus can reveal. This is where I am at today and for some of us, time is easy to give, and for some money is easy to give.
My heart has been tugged and opened in a new way and I cannot go back. I will continue to seek who Jesus is and not only answer the question, “What can I do for you?” but ask the same of those around me and I encourage you to do the same.
Ifthis story has tugged at your heart, I humbly askyou to help Kevin continue to turn his life around and build up some savings. You can send a gift through Venmo @Kelly-RossMiller and I will get it to Kevin.I thank you greatly in advance.
I believe GB&K helped shape my thinking recently so I have to give a shout-out. If you wish to check it out it will be released on July 12th wherever you buy books.
We are getting to the heart of this story where in hindsight I can look back and see that the decision to stay in Nashville one more day allowed for a life-changing opportunity for me and a new friend.
I walked a short mile to a Taco Bell and had a modest lunch while reflecting on the truths that were revealed to me that very morning. The heat in Nashville was welcomed and felt like a warm hug as I walked out of the air-conditioned restaurant to my hotel. I debated sitting by the pool or taking a nap. I was feeling antsy to get downtown and sightsee in one of my favorite neighborhoods in Nashville called 12 South I had discovered on my last trip where I knew that Reese Witherspoons’s flagship retail store, Draper James resided. I am a sucker for all things Reese Witherspoon so I decided to take a shower, freshen up and make my way to 12 South. After arriving in the quaint little neighborhood I walked down to a lush park and just took in the beauty of the scenery. The landscape was so picturesque I could hardly stand it. The tall oak trees lined the park and offered a shady canopy for anyone who entered. A sweet couple was picnicking on the grass as I walked towards a bridge that overlooked the scenery across from the beautiful, colonial-style homes that lined the main street. I stood there and just took it in, grateful for this time alone.
After stopping for an iced coffee I began to explore the many retail stores along the path, stopping in at each one reminding me what a boujie neighborhood it was but hoping to take home something home to remind me of Nashville. I have always loved fashion and enjoy finding items that speak to the recent trends or a unique item that no one else has. I entered store after store selectively picking up dresses and tops to try on when soon I stumbled upon a few stores that fit my style. I found a beautiful jumpsuit at Draper James that I wanted to wear right out of the store.
Most adorable jumpsuit and dressing room.
As the afternoon sun began to get more intense I headed towards the north end of the block remembering there was a restaurant I wanted to try for dinner later that evening. I saw a fruit stand and bought a delicious Georgia peach when I came upon a gentleman sitting on a street corner bench. He was sitting in the sun with a large backpack next to him wearing a bright orange shirt and a veteran camo hat. Here I was in my black sun dress, espadrilles wedges, toting a Kate Spade purse and two shopping bags from my recent finds when I felt this nudge to talk to him. I stopped in front of him and said, “Hi.” He smiled up at me and began to engage in conversation about a rude passerby who had called him lazy. He went on to share that he was not homeless but had recently suffered a heat stroke which made him miss a few days of work.
I found myself sitting down next to him and conversing for about 30 minutes on the recent tragedies that Nashville had suffered from the Tornado in 2020 and of course the ramifications of the pandemic and discovering his name was Kevin. The question that pastor Brooke had posed to all of us at the conference the day before came to mind and I asked my new friend, Kevin,
“What can I do for you?”
Initially, I had been ready to give him the quarters in my coin purse and be on my way but here I was sitting next to him with my Draper James bag feeling that there was more here at this moment.
I then asked a more pointed question,” What do you need to get to Monday?” He blinked at me a bit and said, “Well, I need $85 to cover my rent Monday morning.” I thought to myself that I did not have any cash on me and so I was a little unsure what to do next. I prayed a prayer of discernment over the situation. At that moment a gal walked by and smiled at him and he smiled back saying to me, “She works at the bar down the street and fills my water bottle up when I’m down here.” A crazier thought came to mind and I asked him what he needed to get to the end of the month? He looked at me and laughed then said, “Oh man, I would have to look at a calendar!” We looked at the calendar of how many Fridays were left in June and did the math of how much his rent cost per night and came to the number of $385. I asked him if I could take a selfie with him so I could reach out to my friends and family and see if they would help me cover his rent. We took a selfie and I sent a quick text to family and friends hoping to convey to some degree the situation and receive some help via Venmo. All I could do at that moment was wait for people to respond.
This is Kevin. He has given me permission to post this photo and tell this story.
The sun was pretty intense so I encouraged the idea that we should go get Kevin water and a snack. He led me down the path towards the bar Bottle Taps where we saw the waitress that had passed by earlier. As we walked and talked I noticed he didn’t smell of alcohol or tobacco, he had decent work boots on and his clothes were worn but clean. When we arrived at the bar the waitress took his bottle and filled it up with water as I ordered a coke and fries for my new friend to snack on. The waitress seemed to size me up as she attended to the task at hand then winked at me, and said, “He’s the sweetest.” I smiled back and signed the receipt then turned and told him I was going to go shop around a bit more and come back to find him when I heard from my friends and family. We parted ways and I began to head up the street in a bit of a fog. I wandered into an area that I could not afford and began to feel a bit disoriented. The questions swirled in my head, how would I come through for this person, was this a bad idea, and will anyone respond to my text message? I began to receive concerned messages from my husband and pastor friends. My mother-in-law honestly asked if my phone was hi-jacked and if this was really “Kelly?”
A surge of embarrassment flooded over me when I realized that I probably looked like a fool asking people for money in such a spontaneous fashion.
I called my mother-in-law to calm her fears about my safety and began to cry from complete and utter exhaustion wrapped in embarrassment. She let me explain where this request came from and heard my heart assuring me that if this was the right thing to do God would show me what to do. She picked up on my excitement and shared that she would electronically send me $100 immediately and encouraged me to have faith in my family and friends. I debated walking all of my newly purchased items back to the stores to return them for a refund but after speaking with her I felt that I just needed to be patient and trust that this was what God was prodding me to do and patiently follow through. I wiped my tears and walked back to Kevin telling him I would be back shortly. I wanted to ensure he would be in the same location when I returned and he assured me he would be there until 6:30 pm since most of the shops closed at 6:00 in 12 South. I called an Uber and headed to the closest Walgreens.
Upon arriving I found the aisle that had the various gift cards and grabbed a Visa Card that would allow me to put $385 on it. When the cashier ran my credit card it was declined. At that moment I realized how absurd this must look and quickly called my husband to see if he got a notification from our credit card company. When Jon answered there was a legitimate concern in his voice as he asked, “Kel, what are you doing?” I was grateful for his concern and the opportunity to assess what I was doing and I assured him that I wasn’t crazy and I believed that this is what God was laying on my heart for this gentleman. I told him, “If the card is declined when we run it a second time I will walk away from this situation and consider that a sign that this is not to happen.” He instructed me to try again and it went through. I was so excited! I got back into an Uber and made the 8-minute drive journey back to 12 South where Kevin was now sitting in the shade. It was almost 6 pm and it had been over 3 hours since I had first encountered him.
I climbed out of the vehicle and sat with him on the stoop in front of a neighborhood church. I pulled the card out of my bag and told him that I was confident my family and friends would come through and that I wanted to help him get through June, and give him some breathing room. He was so elated and couldn’t believe it. We video messaged in a family thread to say “thank you” to my sisters and mother-in-law who had given to his cause. I sat there for another 30 minutes and we talked about his daughters and how he hoped to see them at Christmas this year. He asked me about my church where I lead worship and if he could ever watch online to which I gave him my business card. After a few more minutes of small talk, we said our goodbyes, I gave him a big squeeze and headed towards the restaurant “Bar Taco” to put my name in for dinner and to charge my phone. As I sat down for dinner in one of my favorite Nashville eateries, I immediately called Jon to tell him how the events concluded while my body was still buzzing from the events of the day.
Please join me tomorrow for the conclusion of Nashville.
This weekend feels like a final step in the grieving process of my dad’s death. It has only been two months since my dad broke his vertebrae and chose to be taken off his ventilator causing him to take his final breath in the wee hours of the morning on July 4th. At the same time it feels like six months has gone by. We’ve buried my father, we’ve journeyed home, we’ve emptied his house of his belongings and distributed to each other the things that help hold onto his memory. The journey of grieving has just begun I know.
My siblings and I spent the weekend getting my mom settled into her home as a widow and to help her celebrate what would have been their 46th wedding anniversary. We had a great time working together on projects and even playing together. Sometimes we would stop dead in our tracks to just weep or laugh at a particular memory that an item or topic triggered. My parents weaved a beautiful tapestry of a life together through their ministry, children, grandchildren, and beautiful abode. My dad’s absence has left a gaping hole I never could have imagined. I had no idea I would miss my dad this much. His smell, his laugh, his 6 foot 2 presence in a room… Now that he is gone we are now having to stitch that hole together with memories and new traditions.
One thing I have learned in this process is that grief can be beautiful. The more you love someone the harder it is to move on. However there is beauty in the precious gifts that are left behind. My dad left behind a legacy to “do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” Through his example I can learn to push through things I wouldn’t normally think that I could. My dad always gave his best and pushed through the hard times and it was never his own strength, but Christ’s. He gave us an example of discipline. Whether it was in regards to exercise, his job, or marriage; he showed us what commitment looked like. In my father’s last moments he gave us an example of sacrificial love. My sister-in-law equated it to Christ’s sacrificial love for the church. Christ did not want to be on the cross or stand in our place, but he went through it knowing what we would gain. My father did not want to be paralyzed from the neck down nor did he want to leave this earth. His love for us was greater than the love he had for himself. You could ask the question, which is more selfless; for my dad to stay on this earth with us and need 24 hour care, or to leave this earth and say goodbye? I think his bravery to say goodbye is right up there with Christ’s sacrificial love. That’s how well my dad knew Jesus. In those last moments he knew what to do. He knew that the pain to leave would be great but the reward would be greater.
John 15 :13 No one has greater love than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends.
I would like to share a story with you. It’s a story I love to share, but do not always get the opportunity. You can believe it, disbelieve it, discard it, or let it speak to you. As you read it, know this; it is my story that I know to have truly happened and I believe that others can experience the same truth and reality.
When I was a teenager and upon getting my first job my dad sat me down with a roll of Lifesavers and said, “Kelly, as you embark on becoming a working girl you need to know the responsibility that comes with it. God has given you this job and the means to earn the money that will be coming to you. He asks that we give 10% of what we have back to Him.” Then my dad proceeded to give me ten Lifesavers and took one of them away saying, “God does not ask for much. You get to keep nine of the Lifesavers, but he asks you give him this one” I remember thinking, as most 15 1/2 year olds would, “Yeah, yeah. Good to know.” From that moment on my dad spoke to me every now and then of the miracles he experienced when he “gave in faith” back to God. He said that numerous times when he and my mom didn’t have the money in the bank to write their tithe check, they did anyway. Over and over God proved faithful and the amount was covered. They were always logical and practical ways for the money to come in. Sometimes it was an over-pay refund from an insurance company, the IRS or an anonymous gift to them from a parishioner of my parent’s church. It was not a common practice for my parents to “test” God in any way shape or form. I am not recommending people go around writing fraudulent checks hoping God will bail them out. My dad was and is always trying to convey to me that God will take care of me if I put him first.
Somewhere along the way as I became an adult the message I heard got a little skewed. I had this small fear in the back of my mind that if I didn’t tithe, something bad would happen to me. I honestly don’t know where that lie stemmed from, but by the time I got married at 21, it was a pretty big fear. My husband and I both grew up in the church, but he has always pushed and questioned Christianity. At first it scared the living daylights out of me. I would ask him all the time, “Are you sure you have Jesus in your heart?” It’s funny to us now, but at the time I didn’t know how to deal with it. As we settled into married life and began to figure out whose role was whose, the topic of tithing came up. I tried to explain to him why it was so important but all I could say was, “We have to tithe. We just have to.” I’ve never been good at pleading an argument and I had no reasoning behind it anymore, except for “we have to or God will be angry.” He told me that we weren’t going to tithe until I could tithe out of reverence and not out of irrational fear. It was a weird time for me as a Christian. Here I was newly married and the only pastor I had known was my father. Now I was having to do life, marriage and faith on my own. It was a topic of frustration for quite a few months. After a while though, I let it go and allowed it to settle onto the back burner of my life. Every now and then the thought creeped back in but I did not want to deal with the topic.
6 years later my husband and I were now parents to 3 beautiful children living in a 2 bedroom apartment. At the time they were 4, 3 and 1 years old. We were blessed with 3 children but we will admit our youngest was completely unexpected and unplanned. We were young, broke and making painful sacrifices to live on one income so I could be at home with those beautiful children. We were heavily involved in an awesome startup church. I was singing in the worship band, running the Women’s ministry, and leading a bible study. Jon was running sound, involved with the men’s ministry and we helped setup almost every Sunday, but we didn’t tithe. During that time I read a series by Francine Rivers called A Lineage of Grace. It is the story of 5 women of the bible who were in Christ’s lineage. It’s an amazing series. As I was reading the story of Ruth, the part about Ruth’s father-in-law stuck out to me. In River’s depiction of Ruth’s father-in-law; he would not allow the poor to glean from his fields. It was custom in that time, a way of tithing, to allow the poor and widowed to follow behind the harvesters and pick up the wheat that would fall. It was a beautiful cultural cycle that God put in place among the Israelite’s that allowed those unfortunate not to starve and yet have dignity. Ruth’s father-in-law, Elimelech, did not allow people to do this. God was angry at him for it and caused him to get sick and die. (That is probably where the fear idea for me came from. lol) This in turn began Ruth’s journey to Bethlehem and how she married Boaz causing her to become a part of Christ’s lineage. It’s an amazing story when you have the time.
Now, back to my humble story. Here I was a 26 year old mom and I felt like I was reading this story for the first time, or truly hearing it. I went to the bible and read the story of Ruth for myself and instead of seeing God as really harsh, I saw it as him wanting me to know that this was how God was. This was the God of the Old Testament. Now, because of Jesus, we have a new relationship with God. I know, this may seem so contradictory, but stick with me. After I read this book, I shared with Jon how I was feeling. I told him I really felt we needed to start tithing. I believed God was wanting to show me how to tithe out of love and that the fear factor was not a part of the relationship anymore.
A few days after my husband and I had that conversation an incredible thing occurred. Really late one night, there was a knock at our door. I got out of bed to go and answer it. When I opened the door no one was there. On our door step was an anonymous envelope addressed to us. It had $374 of cash in it. The note read something like, “We are so proud of you and the sacrifices you make for your little family. We felt God telling us to give this amount to you. We love you.” There was a verse included and I believe the verse was Ephesians 5:20 “Always give thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” Now get this, that dollar amount was the EXACT amount we should have been tithing. Do you get that? The EXACT amount in cash!!! Yeah I know, do the math. We were broke but God showed up in our life and said, “Hey, I want you to trust me that I will provide for you and give to me what is mine.” We started tithing consistently. It was not easy. There were times I wrote that check and I wasn’t sure if we would make it. It was a true step in faith. I remember one time writing the check and having a school loan bill due. My head told me to write the school loan bill, then if we had enough at the end of the pay period, I would write the tithe check. However, my heart, or the Holy Spirit told me to write the tithe check first. I did. I actually mailed both checks. The next day my husband came home with a commission check from a contract position he was doing that was not a consistent gig. I wanted to laugh and cry in relief. 2 years from that season of our life my husband got a raise that was almost double. We were able to buy a home that had 3 bedrooms. Here in Southern California, on one income, that is a feat. I wish I could say we have not faltered since. We have many times been caught up in life, or fear of the future and not tithed. God has not struck us down when we failed, but he does show us favor when we trust Him and put Him first. Sadly, we forget very quickly those moments that He showed up which is why I am writing this down. I never want to forget that when I asked the question, God showed me the answer.
I did a little research on tithing in America. I was happy to find out that according to a 2014 survey by the Giving USA Foundation that 95.4% of Americans give to charity. However, I was sad to discover that the average middle class only gives 3.6% of their income to charity and religious groups. Incomes over $200,000 give 2.6% according to the Nonprofit Almanac. No wonder we are a country that is anemic in philanthropy. If you are not a Christian and have stuck with me this far let me tell you this. Whether you believe in fate, karma or a deity you should try to be diligent in giving. Even from a financial angle, I remember hearing Suze Orman say on Oprah years ago, that it is a great discipline when managing your money to give to a nonprofit organization. Not only is it a tax write off but Dave Ramsey always says, “Tell your money where to go, or the lack of it will always manage you.” When my husband and I don’t tithe, it’s only because we allowed life to get too busy and we stopped managing our money closely. It’s literally the one bill we don’t have to pay. Tithing or giving 10% of your income helps instill in people a discipline. I guarantee you, many people who don’t tithe have no idea where that money went to. For us it’s quite a chunk now, but if you start when you are making a small amount it becomes habit. Then when you have a lot, it is second nature. Not only that, but it helps make the world go around. If the average giving is 3.6%, what would our world look like if we all gave that extra 6.4%? If 3.6% reflects $174.5 billion dollars given in 2011, can you imagine what over $350 billion could do? I could go on and on. I feel so passionate about not only taking control of your finances, but I strongly believe that tithing or charitable giving is important. I am so grateful that God showed up to my husband and me all those years ago. I wish I knew who it was that dropped that money off (I have an inkling) and could give them a huge hug for listening to God’s prompting. I highly recommend that you seek out in your own life what giving looks like to you. One avenue you can do that is by finding a Dave Ramsey Financial Peace class near you. I hope my story gives you hope wherever you are and that you caught a glimpse of the God I know.
Here are a few charities that I recommend giving to outside of your own church, school or university:
Beauty for Ashes Fund at Point Loma Nazarene University: A scholarship fund established to support the education of survivors of human trafficking, launch many young people into meaningful careers that tackle modern slavery and strengthen the university’s infrastructure to support this level of mentoring.
Preemptive Love Coalition: They offer many lifesaving services but I was drawn to their program for an Irag Crisis Response called Love First. “Preemptive Love is on the ground in Iraq, serving those who suffer and saving lives. With your help, we are uniquely positioned to meet needs of those attacked by ISIS through job creation and lifesaving surgeries.”
New Life Church of the Nazarene in Phelan,CA: Phelan New Life is a church committed to their community and gives the little they have in large ways. It is a church immersed in the drug and poverty stricken community of the High Desert. This church ministers to men who attend Awakening Ranch, a ministry that helps men conquer substance abuse and in some cases once released from prison. They give food to the needy within their community along with feminine products and clothes to a local women shelter affected by substance abuse and poverty.
A great tool to check out reputable charities to give to go to Charities.org
life on the back burner 