i realize it’s only been a day since i’ve posted, but when you’re used to posting several times a day, that feels like an eternity. what’s up? you ask? or at least i imagine you are. a crawler baby that keeps me running. a destroyer of all that is good 2 year old girl. a 4 year old boy and a 6 year old boy that conspire together constantly to do something. anything. and then fight about it. and that’s not to mention my non-stop training of my children to not interrupt ;) in the mundane issues and yet know when to listen to their little souls when it will do them good. (thank you, brandy, for the great suggestion – it is, however, slow-going!) and to be quite frank, i’ve been in kind of a foul mood and i firmly believe that if you have nothing nice to say then you should say nothing at all. and i’m struggling with contentment. and with most struggles i keep quiet, mention them to my most trusted friends and wait them out. and so, do you have a minute to hear my whinings? if so, please grab a cup of coffee and come sit with me. i could sure use the company.
2007 HHS Poverty Guidelines
Persons
in Family or Household |
48 Contiguous
States and D.C. |
Alaska |
Hawaii |
-united states department of health and human services
we make $29,196. as my husband said the other day, “we’ve done this to ourselves. we’re the ones that kept having children.” i understand that. and i’ve already argued that point and why we did what we did here. and i’ve argued the point that we’re educated. we’re working, not slothful. we’re trying. we are going back on government assistance. we’re applying for jobs left and right. we’re having no more babies. and yet… sometimes we’re hungry. and i don’t mean “yeck, i don’t really want what’s in the cabinet.” or “wow, it’s time to go shopping we’re really low on groceries.” i mean that sometimes i haven’t eaten anything but rice and a little bit of noodles for so many days that when we do get paid and we get food that i will spend a full day sick with diarrhea because my body can’t handle that change. and so now, i’m wiser. we spend the money we don’t have on food – first. and i’m getting wiser with what we buy to make it go further. and i slowly work my body back into heavier foods, like meat, instead of jumping in head first to all the yummy foods.
but i’m hoping. and i want to never forget where i came from if i’m allowed to get out of here. and so i will document. here are a few of the things, good and bad, that being almost-in-poverty have taught me. in no particular order.
i’m still judgemental. only now my chip on my shoulder is at those who have enough.
my definition of “enough” is changing.
i’m not poor as in “we have too much on the credit cards and i don’t want to put more on them” or “i really shouldn’t spend that gas money because it’s not in the budget” poor.
i’m daily convicted of paul’s words that he was content in enough and in want.
when buying vitamins, diapers, and food i contemplate “daily bread” vs. being “good stewards of our money” buying in bulk to save money in the long-run.
my view of poverty-ridden countries and children who are truly hungry is brought to my mind often. and i’m convicted of my self-pity in comparison with them constantly.
grocery shopping is incredibly stressful. spending money that is in our “overdraft protection” and feeding 6 people for 2 weeks on less than $150.00 is difficult.
living in a perpetual pity party sucks.
worrying about if mine or my husband’s cold turns into pneumonia sucks.
worrying if i’ll be wise with my money if we ever get out of this hole sucks.
worrying sucks.
paydays are breeding grounds for fights. tread carefully. they are not happy occasions. they are when our situation is brought into the spotlight. and we’re acutely aware of every wolf at the door and the lack of funds to throw at them.
there are paydays that the good news is that our checks to the electric company clears and the bad news is we start our 2 weeks before grocery shopping with a negative $300 in our account and we haven’t paid the van, car insurance, mortgage, or the water company yet. and they were due 2 weeks ago.
my intolerance for other people’s worries sucks.
my worry about impending christmas sucks.
worrying sucks.
wanting to tell people “this is my story. let me swim in my misery and don’t tell me about how somebody else has it worse.” sucks.
choosing wisely and conserving and making do with what we have feels good.
having the 20 year old at the grocery store talk down to me for choosing the wrong fruit juice on my wic list makes me want to scream.
having church teach on feeding the poor in arkansas sucks.
having my 4 year old come home from church and tell me his class is collecting a box of food for the hungry sucks. a whole box?! having him tell me we should give because we have plenty of food puts me in my place. and makes me think of the woman with the last coin.
when i watched “the pursuit of happyness” it made me very uncomfortable. it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. because once one thing snowballs it just gets worse. and i recognized too much in his life. and it made me realize it can happen. you can find yourself at the bottom.
when your basic needs aren’t met or are very close to not being met it’s all you can think about it.
i want to record my thoughts because i want to raise awareness.
because i want to never forget.
because if we are brought up out i want to give glory to the One who has brought us up out. because i want to show how He blesses. even in need. i have more blessings than i can count. but i need to try. because He has blessed me. and i want to have a thankful heart and not one that is hardened.
please soften my heart, Father. please help me to seek You first. because if i’ll only do that then everything else will be added unto me. please help me to not focus so on me, because when i do, Lord, i miss You and everybody else.
and so i will begin to list blessings.
1. i still have a home.
2. i have a yard for my babies to run in.
3. i have food right now.
4. we have milk in the fridge.
5. the lady at the wic office was very sweet and not at all condescending.
6. my babies.
7. my husband.
8. we have a job.
9. we still have a van.
10. my honey’s parents fixed his car for him.
11. my babies don’t know how broke we are.
12. we still have hope.
i’ll continue the thankful theme in upcoming posts. and in my life. i’ll put into action my promises. i want no pity. i want no advice. i don’t even want a milk cow anymore – i’ve accepted the government’s. i just want to confess my sins. ask forgiveness. and get it all out of my head. thank you for listening.
