...but that doesn't mean that I'm not on the verge of tears.
Our bed bug issue is somewhat all-consuming and is definitely putting a huge damper on my mood this week. And it's all becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy as my work week is getting worse and worse too.
Our couch will be wrapped for 3 months. We can't hang our clothes in the closets for 3 months. A small thank you to God that we will barely be in our apartment in December.
And it is going to cost us over half of our savings. And more then what we pay in rent, which, in New York, is probably twice what a good amount of my friends pay in mortgages and I know it's more than my in-laws pay for their 3-bedroom house in Ohio.
I know that God provides. Maybe this is the parable of the Rich Fool. I JUST read it a few weeks after we had a sermon about where we put our money and about the young rich man and the camel/needle thing, you know? And then the rich fool about building his barns. I was reading something and someone asked, 'Well, how narrow IS the gate' since the path is narrow and few enter? Well, now that our money is going to the exterminator, I guess we don't have to worry as much about that...
But God, why can't I be giving this money to You? Or to children in Africa? Or something else that ISN'T a nasty infestation in our apartment that our landlord isn't taking care of? But maybe that's because I wouldn't have done any of those things with that money anyway. It would just sit there. Partly because I want it to. Partly because my husband wants it to.
Where your treasure is...
Growing up, we actually had very similar family situations. It was about the time of 10 where it began to diverge.
I will say up front, that I have never known my family's finances. Ever. My parents were always of the idea that it was not our business and we just needed to know that we were provided for. My parents were married while my father was still in college and my mother was pregnant almost immediately (with me!). I don't remember the days where my family didn't buy groceries so they could pay rent or when we only got one present from Santa or my father driving a car that literally would fall apart. Those things all changed for me when I was 10. My father was sent to Poland to check Timken's plant there (anyone from Northeast Ohio here? You know Timken!!) since he was Timken's main accountant. To make a long story short, he ended up with an international position in his job. He worked very hard for what he has and deserves everything he's received and I couldn't be more proud of him.
Steve's mom will tell us how poor her family was growing up. And though Steve's family isn't poor, I think most of you know how ridiculously underpaid teachers are. His mother is a teacher and she fears that she will be laid off or forced out of her job because she's hit the pay ceiling and everyone wants to get cheaper, newer people in the work force. Steve's dad is a copier salesman and you know how retail is too.
But I'm sorry. Now I'm diverging. It's just that I know that my husband is always afraid that there won't be enough to pay bills. That there won't be enough in general.
Well, I've always kind of considered it our adoption fund. I want to adopt internationally. I don't know why. It's always been in my heart, I guess. I never thought that a child had to come from my womb to be mine and I always tried to voice that when people would look at me funny about it (I grew up in Ohio. I know that people adopt in Ohio, but I did get some funny looks when it was brought up). Every child deserves love. And as of late...I don't know. Maybe I DO want a baby. I'm still clueless. And I kind of want to move out of NYC before anything like that happens. But...I guess I get a little sad when money comes out of that fund.
It's just money, right?