doxology

I’ve been writing a whole lot lately. I’m glad.

at church when the offering plate is passed around the congretation, I am struck by a reality that doesn’t hit me so hard elsewhere: none of my money is my own. it’s no longer that I don’t want to give, that I am hesitant to give, or that I am worried about giving away what little money I have. it is that I cannot give – I have nothing to give.

literally. I’ve had to ask my mom to put money into my account several times this summer. including this week – I wouldn’t have been able to make rent without her. even the outfit that I wore to church today – the shoes, the skirt, the top, the jacket – all were bought by my mom. I’m 22 years old and my mom buys my clothes. she also bought me a new(er) car this summer. she even got the tags and license plate.

and on top of that, soon I will be living entirely off of loan money. I won’t have to ask my mom for money anymore, in fact I’ll be able to pay her back. but the money still won’t be mine – it’s the government’s money that I’ll one day have to pay back.

the situation seems so hopeless and pitiful. my mom didn’t ask for me to get this degree, I’m sure she had no plans of still raising her daughter four years after she became a legal adult. I have no idea how I’m ever going to pay off all of these loans.

but I have to believe in what I’m doing. someone made a point in class last week – it’s a PRIVILEGE for us to be here. people in the school WANTED us, they wanted each one of us to be in this program. they turned town a hundred applicants for US. that has to mean something. it has to mean something that for each place that I applied (which was eight), somewhere around 60 applicants were turned down so that I could have an interview, and for each place that offered me a spot, somewhere around 100 applicants were turned down.

for all of the time that I spent hating my mom as a teenager (and partly for quite legitimate reasons), I love her so much more now. the last time that I was home with here, we spent a day shopping together. in the car driving from one place to the next, I though, I don’t think I want to move away from here. I would love to stay right here, if only because I want to always be near my mom. and if anyone is left reading this who still read this 7 years ago, or even 4 years ago, they would know the huge changes that must have taken place for me to make that statement.

I just hope even more, that for all that I am giving to this worthy career, that someday I will have enough. I want to have enough money to take care of my mom, because she has taken care of me, and because lately she has done far more for me monetarily than is required of her as a mother. my mom is the reason why I am able to get this degree, and I want to be able to pay her back. I want to be there for her when she most needs it, when she is too old to care for herself, or when she is sick, or when she has just been left alone with burdens.

hey, maybe my mom will have her own change of heart – maybe someday when I have kids, she’ll be head over heels for her grandkids. that would be another fantastic reason to stay close to my mom.