Naaman

There was a tug-of-war going on in my mind.  On one side, worry and financial calculations.  On the other side, generosity and trust in God's provision.  Price to sell or price based on value? Get rid of excess or save for a rainy day?  It should have been easier to come up with yard sale pricing, but the untrusting side had dug its heels in deep, shouting out "But what if . . . .  what if . . . ?" with every tug.   While it was just yard sale pricing on one level, on another it was a much, much deeper question.

Do I trust that God will meet our needs?   Even if we find ourselves in a place where all of our human efforts have been exhausted? 

It's easy to say "God provides" in a time of relative comfort, when we view the fruits of our own efforts as evidence of God's blessing. I like to think that I trust in God's provision.  But do I really believe it?  The level of mental argument over something so relatively simple as this situation makes me wonder how much I put more trust in my own ability to be prepared.   In the past couple months some emergency fund money has had to go toward some medical expenses, and as it has dwindled I've found my anxiety level increasing.  Worries over how to build it back up have begun racing through my head, and I feel the loss of (perceived) control. 

When I picked up my Bible late in the afternoon to do my daily reading, the story of Naaman from 1 Kings 5 really spoke to me.  The commander of an army, used to his own efforts bringing success, but a leper.  God used a most unlikely source to make the connection for his healing, a servant girl in his household (brought there from Israel as part of a raid) who knew of Elisha.  Naaman takes along a sizable payment of silver and gold, and a letter from the king.  He arrives at the prophet's door and receives the message to "Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean."  In the next couple lines, I saw myself.  Instead of running right down to the Jordan to wash, Naaman gets mad that Elisha didn't do what he had pictured ~ calling on God with a wave of the hand and curing his leprosy on the spot.  He grumbles that he could have washed in the rivers of his own land.  How often do I fail to recognize God working in my life when it doesn't quite fit what I had pictured?

Naaman's servants convince him that Elisha's words are what he should do, and after washing in the Jordan, he is restored.  Convinced now of the God of Israel, Naaman offers payment to Elisha, who refuses.  But while Elisha has no desire for payment, his servant Gehazi has been eyeing it.  He chases after Naaman, concocts a story that results in his getting some of the payment.  Elisha knows, of course, and confronts Gehazi, who denies it.  Gehazi's greed ends up resulting in leprosy for him and his descendants.  How often have I been like Gehazi, building a case in my mind for why I need  payment or that something is worth a certain amount?

A change in (gr)attitude was needed in my day.  Instead of focusing on the what-if's and trying to cling tightly to the way I thought God would work (selling my excess for maximum value),  I needed to remind myself of the ways that God has provided.  His provision has often been in ways that I least expected:  an offer of children's clothes for free from a friend wanting to clear out her attic, a loveseat sold for a mere pittance that fit our non-existent furniture budget, or a long forgotten reimbursement showing up in the mail.  How excited I've been to find those perfect items at an even better than perfect price in the past ~ maybe this was a chance for someone else to experience the same thing through my excess items.   And more importantly, it was an opportunity for me to shown God through my actions that I trust in His perfect provision, even if it ends up coming in a different form than I would have chosen.

PS:  For my green smoothies, I enjoy putting in frozen banana slices.  The way I can afford to do this is buying the 99 cent bags of overripe bananas, slicing them up and freezing.  The last of my freezer bananas ran out a couple weeks ago, and I've been hoping to get to the store at the right time to find some.  My husband came in the door today with several bags ~ the produce stocker had set them out just moments before he got to that section of the store.  Thank you God for those small things that mean so much!