Time to switch things up, friends. Today I'm going to post a story from my past.
It was a summer evening in Provo, Utah. The sun was still bright in the sky and the air was just starting to cool off. I was hanging out in my brother's dive of an apartment and we were both balancing our checkbooks. Our prospects were bleak. Justin and I were two of eleven children and ,therefore, left to our own hard work and ingenuity to come up with whatever means we could to pay for our lives. I guess it's not so surprising that we both came up with the same problem that day: we could pay our tithing or buy groceries. There was a brief conversation, we both decided we needed more than just groceries. So the decision was made that we would both pay our tithing and trust in God. Maybe our decision wasn't as firm as it could've been. That would explain why we didn't wait until Sunday to give our tithing checks to the bishop. We went straight to the post office to mail our tithing off...
Justin was a carefree guy. He was mellow, easy going and always up for a party. He showered about half of the time and shaved even less. He was the perfect brother, though. When the car I purchased right after my mission went up in smoke (literally) he starting driving me to work in his old beat up Honda CRV hatchback. If he had money or food, it was mine if I wanted it. If he didn't, he expected the same in return.
This particular summer was a tight one for me. I had taken out a student loan to go to school the semester before, but was becoming less and less comfortable with the idea of borrowing again. I worked full-time at a chiropractor's office and lived in BYU student housing. I didn't have many expenses, but I didn't make much and lived paycheck to paycheck. Any little thing could put me into the red and it had. After that tithing check was sent away I had to face my reality: not so much as a loaf of bread in the cupboard, no money for the upcoming semester's tuition, and just the generosity of my brother getting me to work.
I woke up the next morning and got ready for work. It was like any other day, except worse. I went to the kitchen to scrounge up something to take with me for lunch. Lunch meat, but no bread. I had no sooner put the lunch meat back in the fridge than my roommate walked into the kitchen carrying a loaf of homemade bread. "Here, your visiting teacher dropped this off on the doorstep." In my heart, I accepted this as a gift from Heavenly Father for paying my tithing. I was grateful. I made my sandwich and hopped into Justin's car as we headed to Orem for work.
Justin's car had been on its last leg for months. It was a junker long before he bought it. So, when it finally puttered to a stop in the middle of the road about 1/2 mile from my work, we both knew it was over for that car. I apologized to Justin for leaving him there with that mess, and left to walk the rest of the way to work. Now I was really in trouble! How would I get to work? How would I pay my bills? How could I go to school the following fall?
I'm afraid my emotions were pretty close to the surface when I arrived at work. I sat down behind the front desk and my co-worker asked me something about what classes I was taking in the fall. I burst into tears! Right there in front of a waiting room full of people, I explained to my friend that I couldn't go to school in the fall because I was too poor. I would probably even have to quit my job since my ride just sputtered and died on the way to work. I'm sure the patients got quite a show!
I finally pulled myself together and got back to work. It was calming to have something to do. As I checked patients in and out and entered charts, I found myself distracted from the bigger worries I was facing. One of the lucky patients who witness the morning's outburst came to be checked out. "Sarah, I overheard this morning that you're having some trouble. Is there anything I can do?" Well, I guess there was, but I didn't feel much like asking for help. "I'm fine, Donita. I'm just a little emotional today. Don't worry about me." "Are you sure?" Knowing Donita shared my faith, I said, "I paid my tithing. The Lord will take care of me." She smiled knowingly and left.
Two hours later, Donita's husband Bill pulled into the parking lot in the ugliest car you have ever seen! He walked in, handed me the keys, title, registration and insurance and said, "Donita told me you need this car. None of my kids will be caught dead in it. You take it." I didn't know what to say! Donita and Bill Summers, two relative strangers, just gave me a car. The tank was full of gas, the registration was up to date, everything was legal. I was flabergasted! Guess who picked Justin up from work that day?
As I drove home from work, I pondered on the answers the Lord gives to our prayers. On how he turns any little sacrifice we make into a blessing for us. I got the loaf of bread when I needed lunch, the car when I needed a ride. That evening, my cousin asked me if I could come into her room for a minute, she needed to talk to me. "Sarah, I know you're worried about how to pay for school next semester. I have a little bit of extra money that I would be glad to lend you so you can pay your tuition."
And that was it! I paid my tithing and all of my problems were solved! Now, that hasn't happened every time I've ever paid my tithing, but it does prove one thing to me: the Lord fulfills his promises.
"...Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." Malachi 3:10
Oh, and Justin. He was the lucky recipient of about three boxes full of leftover groceries from my brother Joel who was moving right then.
