In my shoes...

"In my shoes" is a weekly series that is updated every Thursday. I hope you enjoy the following post and that like me, you will learn more about a different walk of life, which will help you to love better! We love comments or likes and would love to have you follow this series with us. We have some amazing women and amazing topics to share. 

This post is written by Jennie Smith.  Jennie and Steve Smith have been married for 11 1/2 years and for reasons beyond their control, they have traveled the road of unemployment for a significant time of their marriage.  It has been hard, but as you can see, God has provided and stretched their faith in numerous ways.  Here is a glimpse into Jennie's heart.  I know you will love her just like I do.


When Mindy asked me to write about losing a job, it was a few weeks ago and I thought I would be writing from the top of the mountain, so to speak.  I was in a good place spiritually and emotionally and even felt really hopeful about our financial future.  As God would have it, I had to rearrange my date and so now I’m writing on a Saturday night wondering if I’m going to make it to church in the morning or if I even want to, and I’m at the bottom of the mountain, I’m in the abyss.

My story isn’t really about my husband and I losing our jobs on various untimely occasions, which we have; or living with family, which we have; or the discouragement of no prospects for employment, which we (still) have.  My story is about trusting God for my daily bread.  My daily bread, not Steve’s or the kids or the bread he’s given someone else whom I admire (or possibly envy).  There’s nothing super-spiritual about suffering, Christ is clear about what we can expect from a fallen world.  But I often believe the lie, frequently propagated among even Christian circles, that if I’m in financial distress then I’ve done something wrong.  I am learning that what the Lord gives me is what he wants me to have because I am his child and it is good for my faith and his glory.  He does this according to his standards not mine, which only goes to show how little I really know of his perfect ways.

I don’t know how to do this (trusting God) all that well yet, but knowing that this is my story and knowing how it ends is the most beautiful gift on days like today.  Days when the bank account is in two digits and the bills due by midnight total four digits.  Days when I forget to fix lunch because I’m just focused on breathing so I won’t panic about taxes and car repairs and dental cleanings and clothes for church.  Days when Steve and I can’t speak a civil word to one another for the worry of it all and he drops the toilet bowl while repairing the bathroom and now we need more money that we don’t have.  And even on the worst days I can get through the moments, but the fear of future uncertainty is like a heavy blanket to my soul and I feel like I could suffocate. 

I’ve never had a lot of money, but always enough.  Compared to the rest of the world I’m sitting awfully pretty.  I don’t go hungry; I have a minivan and gas to drive it (usually); there are gifts under the tree at Christmas, we still pick up the occasional dinner from Taco Cabana and I don’t even work full time.  So what am I complaining about right?!  My daily bread.  I’m wandering around in the desert complaining about the manna from heaven like an idiot.  I’m afraid to trust that this, right now, is good and right and timely and every good gift!

I know my God is faithful.  Sometimes it’s big. Like the time I lost my job and couldn’t work because of pregnancy complications and Steve’s only client bailed one day with no warning and I was seven months pregnant and the creditors were calling and the bills were so very over-do and we couldn’t buy groceries and I hit my knees and asked for an exact amount and it came in the mail later that same day.  And then it took me two days to realize the correlation.  Or this summer when our renter moved out of our duplex and we were going to sell it and finally move out of my parents’ house with the money after eighteen months of not having our own home.  But the renter had trashed it and Steve had to take off two weeks of working/job hunting to get it livable so we could move in and fix it up and we were given a small unexpected inheritance that covered the big expenses.  And then it took weeks to realize I had not said ‘thank you’.

Usually it’s small though. I mean the faithfulness is big but the moments seem small until you string them all together.  Like being unable to sleep at 3 a.m., worrying if I’ll die too young because I can’t afford to go see the Dr. about that strange spot on my skin.  Then there’s stillness, a drawing to himself and I know I must pray, and he puts me to sleep in peace.  Or the moments of great clarity that what truly matters in this world is wisdom and loving my neighbor and honoring Christ.  Then realizing that I couldn’t reach my neighbor from any other place than here.  And the joy of being unencumbered by money and the accoutrements of a wealthy life.  And the closeness our little family has because of the thought that has to go into even mundane things.  And the peace of watching the details of our literal and spiritual daily bread being handed to us in ways only the Lord can do and knowing I had nothing to do with it.  Knowing what it is to suffer and being able to enter in with a sister in a way I never could have otherwise.  Or telling my story on one of the scariest days I’ve had in a long time and remembering through the telling of it that God is a good god and he likes to give his children good gifts. 

He gives me my daily bread.  My lesson learned, my fears assailed, my hope renewed, my weakness turned to strength, my failure to believe and remember and thank turned to his glory in his ways.

Honestly, I do wish I had something else to wear to church in the morning.  I wish my life looked like most of my friends and family.  But on some days I remember that the myth of earthly success equaling Godly favor is a vicious, scandalous lie.  And that the stripping away of earthly ambition takes a personal form in my life from a personal God who gives me what I need each day to consume my dross, refining me to look more like Christ.  I have so far to go to trust rightly and live faithfully, but I know this is my story and I know how it will end.   

Written by Jennie Smith.