Obedience
“Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? ”Luke 6:46
“This is love for God: to keep his commands.” I John 5:3
The next day, I slipped into my chair at work and prepared for another day of grading papers. Jae, my co-worker, slipped into the chair next to mine. Jae had taken a leave of absence from work for several months and was now back. Before her absence we shared a love of fiction, bringing stacks of books to work. Now, however, the Bible sat alone by my hand. Jae raised a brow but said nothing. Her side of the desk was weighted by several new books.
During a quiet time in class I opened my Bible to I Timothy. Class hummed along as I read, me occasionally peeking over the book to check for raised hands. Scratching my arm I turned the page and stopped cold. It said: “Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” I Timothy 5:8 (AMPC)
“Holly,” Jesus said just then, “this is important.”
This verse described me, a person worse than an unbeliever, which stung. Jesus brought Katy to my mind. Katy had entered prison penniless. She had no outside financial help. Like every other inmate, half her wages had been garnished, used to pay fines and a “gate-fee.” Katy’s pay was garnished an additional 25% for child support. In essence, Katy lived on a quarter of her pay, or about twelve cents an hour. Katy was one of the hardest working inmates I knew, and likely she had to be just to survive. She worked overtime whenever possible and never missed a day of work. She was generous, cheerful, and kind.
I was none of those things, and did not support my children. Entering prison it had seemed to me (and may seem to the reader) that prison wages are so low as to be irrelevant to life outside of prison. I’ve already described the poverty of prison life, misery not relieved by our meager wages. It never occurred to me to send what little I did have (and felt I needed) home to my family where it wouldn’t buy a tank of gas.
“Jesus! I’m sorry. I don’t want to be ‘worse than an unbeliever.’ Please help me,” I prayed. Wanting to obey, I still knew myself to be weak, emotionally ready to cave when things got tough. For the past few years I’d been spending money on junk food to feel better. My usually petite frame had taken on a lot of unwanted weight and I’d been unsuccessful at any attempt to lose it. This day I did not feel some new, special resolve to try harder. My fragile hope was based on my recent experiences with Jesus.
After class I grabbed a yellow kite form (used for institutional mail). Filling it out I requested the Accounting department automatically put 25% of my wages into my personal savings account. I had 3 financial accounts through the prison, a spending account, a savings account and a media spending account for buying music and movies. Our wages were deposited into our spending account. While at any time I could transfer money from savings to spending, the process required paperwork and wasn’t immediate. I hoped the extra step might prevent my impulsive spending on canteen and thus help me honor my new commitment. On the other hand, I was nervous about not having immediate access to money I could use in an “emotional emergency.” I determined that once a month I’d mail a check drawn from my savings account to my husband. After I finished with the kite, I dropped it in the mail. As my husband and I were not on speaking terms I made no attempt to tell him of my plan to send money.
After about 6 weeks I became certain Jesus was supernaturally giving me the ability to do this. It was not easy. I had to learn how to budget, plan really well for the future, and understand suffering and want in whole new ways.
Jesus started by teaching me that He gives me everything I need. I began to lose weight because I wasn’t buying canteen food. I must admit this, maybe more than anything, was such a relief I thanked Jesus, happy to obey Him all the more. I was glowing with joy now all the time.
I remember one canteen pickup during this time. Waiting to return to my room another inmate asked me, “Are you ok? Is anything wrong?” She was probably concerned by my dramatic weight loss, thinking it due to stress. I was surprised, as I felt so happy now, certain it must show on my face. I assured her I was “great, amazing!” but she retained her doubtful frown.
Psalm 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good!” It means, ‘try it, you’ll like it!’ The focus here is on needing to be encouraged to taste. No such encouragement is needed if we already anticipate it being good. Perfect obedience to God, obedience in any amount, is contrary to our sin nature. “The mind of the flesh [with its sinful pursuits] is actively hostile to God. It does not submit itself to God’s law, since it cannot.” Romans 8:7 (AMP) One must be commanded to do those things they will not do otherwise. Taste and see that the Lord is good! I had accepted the challenge, prompted by the Holy Spirit, and found Jesus to be so, so good!
And then came the day to drop my first child support check in the mail. Immediately I was brought up short in front of the mailbox as I imagined how this might turn out when the check arrived. On the movie screen of my mind I saw Chad retrieving the mail from the mailbox and spotting my envelope. “What’s this?” he would say. “I don’t want letters from her!” Tossing the unopened envelope in the garbage, he’d forget all about it. ‘That’s months of suffering and saving in there!’ I yelled at my imaginary husband. The picture faded and another formed, this worse than the last. Again Chad retrieved the mail and spotted my envelope. Our children circled around him as he tore it open, revealing a check for $8 from me. “Look how stupid your mother is, children,” my imaginary husband said laughing, mocking. “She sent us this tiny check! That’s all she’s good for – eight dollars!” The picture faded completely, my heart sinking. I was crushed at the thought my suffering might be an opportunity for others to invalidate me further.
Suddenly Jesus said, “Do not worry what people think of you, Holly. Focus on Me.”
I froze, check in hand, considering how I hated my husband so much. He smoked, drank, and did drugs. I knew he cheated on me and hit our kids. He hated me. It was entirely possible, if he did open this envelope and cash this check, he would spend it on things I hated to imagine. Out of my hands was out of my control.
“All these things may be true,” Jesus spoke into my thoughts, “but I am in charge of Chad, not you. Let go.”
Letting go emotionally here was another step away from inappropriate emotional neediness. I desired respect, admiration, and love but I was hurting and insecure. “Help me to let go, Jesus,” I prayed and released the letter into the mailbox, flooded with warmth. I was accountable for my actions, not my husband’s response.
God gave me the ability to keep my commitment for years, and used it as a tool in healing my relationship with my children and forging a strong foundation for our future.
