Beautiful Irony
So where, exactly, did this month go? Lately, it’s been football this night, soccer that night, swimming and guitar the other night…and even a few bouts with cotillion (which is rumored to have something to do with manners and chivalry. Given the son of mine that’s taking part in it, I’d say we paid too much.) The eldest was involved in a double-overtime football game with the cross-town rival. Beautiful weather, packed stadium. Police presence in full force. The winning team assured of home field advantage in the first round of the state playoffs. It’s the scenario you dream about as a player and as a dad. Sadly, Nick came up a point short. The youngest, Charles Henry, was tabbed to be the keeper in the overtime penalty kick phase in round one of the city’s Under 7 soccer playoffs. He, also, fared not so well. Nick is 17, Charles Henry is 7. Different ages, different maturity levels, and different life experiences. Same result. Heartache. But short lived. Nick just needed a reassuring hand on the back and space to digest the loss. Charles Henry, a few bear hugs and some candy. Boom. All good. I know life will become more complicated for these boys as they venture into manhood and the stakes for parental provision will surely be much higher.
Provision: the act or process of providing.
Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I see it as my primary responsibility to provide for the family – spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially and otherwise. But despite my best intentions to maintain that line up, I feel, daily, the weight of monetary provision. And that weight can be heavy at times, can’t it? But in my heart of hearts, I believe it’s true what we’ve always heard. “It’s only money.” And if you’ve never heard that before, then let me tell you. It’s only money. Please understand, I’m certainly not downplaying the role finances play in our culture or in our personal lives. I’m just keeping things in perspective. I’ve learned financial lessons the hard way, and sometimes it seems that particular class will never end. So allow me to dismiss class with some solid, simple counsel: Give, save, live off the rest. If that’s not specific enough for you, then put yourself on a budget where you’re bringing in more than you’re sending out – and commit to it.
You can always get more money. But what you may not get more of, is opportunity.
That’s what should keep you up at night. Missed opportunity.
A few weeks ago, I attended the funeral of my dear friend’s mother, Patricia Rainey Standard. She was killed in a single-car automobile accident. Her service was an unabashed celebration of life – hers and of those she had provided for for so many years and in so many ways. Pat was wife to Dave, mother to Amy and Kevin, and grandmother – a badge she wore so very proudly – to seven. Pat would represent the 2nd definition of provision:
Provision: A measure taken beforehand to deal with a need.
Gran, as she was lovingly anointed by her grand kids, was famous for her chocolate cake. Not because of the end result, necessarily, but for how it was made. Toothpicks, if you can believe it, would be scattered throughout. Competitions would ensue to see who in the family could collect the most. While the joy of discovery for the younger ones (and adults as well) was a nice byproduct, the toothpicks were meant to represent the treasures a family may find in life that are not so easily noticed. Some use toothpicks in baking to test for readiness, to hold layers together, or in Gran’s case, to create an environment that appreciates, no, demands that family be cherished and celebrated. Pat knew, all too well, that life will have its trials and will do its best to get in the way of family. But what she provided for was an environment where family always mattered most and where all of life’s challenges would be met head on – and together. And in those trials of togetherness, was found a life treasure. Beautiful irony.
These are provisions you can’t use as currency, but are priceless nonetheless. They won’t show up in net-worth statements, but they will make you rich deep into your soul. Gran prepared more than dessert for her family. She provided a means by which they will forever appreciate the blessing of family and the time that God has allotted for it. This is a need we all have whether recognized or not. With temporary nourishment for the body, she created the legacy that family is God’s most powerful provision. More than money, more than experiences. Even more than time. Relationship. A relationship with him and the family he created for us.
On the occasion when Gran would make a cake that didn’t turn out quite right, she would dismiss the result with, “It’s okay, the stars and moon weren’t in alignment I guess; but there’s always next time.” Because of her provision, there will forever be a next time for the Standard family. What I learned that day, is that heartache isn’t the end. It’s a reminder of how powerful a family’s love for one another is, and proof that family matters most. And thus the charge to keep living, and loving, with family.
Interesting side note: This post, and several others I’ve written over the last year have very little to do with money. The most important things in life seldom do.
