In response to these gifts, she would say all sorts of nice things. She was probably saying something reasonable:
"This is such an awesome gift! I know it was really expensive, but it means a lot!"
But all I heard was:
"Laundry? DISHES?"
"LAUNDRY AND DISHES???
"I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED ABOUT LAUNDRY AND DISHES AND I'M GOING TO MAKE AMY PARTICIPATE IN BOTH EVERY DAY SO THAT SHE TOO MAY EXPERIENCE THE JOY OF LAUNDRY AND DISHES. THERE IS LiTerALlY NOTHING I LOVE MORE. NOTHING. AT ALL EVER."
But having recently begun living in my first ever apartment, I realize I owe Mom a pretty big apology:
Mom, I'm so sorry. I totally get it now.
Because in receiving things for my apartment, I keep finding myself having large tantrums of joy about what used to seem like trivial items. YOU GUYS I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED.
WAY TOO EXCITED ABOUT DECORATIVE PILLOWS!
UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP WITH SALAD BOWLS!
(You just don't know them like I do.)
And so many more. It helps, of course, that nearly every single item for my apartment was provided at no cost to me. The Lord is very excellent about His timing that way. Here's the story: the month my job began was also the month ULI ended. ULI was a training program that housed missionaries-to-be in Vancouver and taught them how to live in big cities. Due to several changes, the program has had a huge makeover and is no longer located here. Which means there were just shy of 15 apartments (full of apartment stuff) just lying around. And I saw all the stuff and I just...
(Something tells me this is not the last "Sorry, Mom" card I'll need to make.)
So, Tim and Joan, being the resourceful and wonderful bosses that they are, stocked my entire apartment (and many, many others) with furniture, dishes, bedding, and anything else you can think of. And in addition to being very and trendy and freegan of them (where my Portlanders at?), it was also an overwhelming blessing to me.
I knew what the Lord had promised me: "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, an yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" And again: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care. And even the very hairs of your head (or, if you're me, dishes on your table, or pounds of food in your cupboard) are numbered. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 6 and Matthew 10, italics mine.)
But it's one thing to have memorized those verses in Sunday school or, say, sung that song at my grandmother's funeral, and it's quite another to watch all I needed (more than I needed! Abundantly more than I'd have asked for!) come into my new home as if from nothing. Why should I worry?
But it's one thing to have memorized those verses in Sunday school or, say, sung that song at my grandmother's funeral, and it's quite another to watch all I needed (more than I needed! Abundantly more than I'd have asked for!) come into my new home as if from nothing. Why should I worry?
To bring it home, I've asked my friends Tonya and Lauryn to help me out. Sing it, girls. (By the way, if you have not seen Sister Act II: Back in the Habit, I just don't know what you're doing with your life...)
Please remember that donations are an important way that the Lord provides for me. I am so blessed by all of you. More to come.
Love, Ames.
