Holden comes from the upper class. His family lives in an apartment in Manhattan. His dad is a corporate lawyer who spends his free time producing Broadway shows. His brother writes screenplays for Hollywood, and Holden has attended every prep school on the East Coast, it seems. All these facts indicate a certain level of financial security. The only reason he's broke near the end of the book is because he's already used up all of the birthday money his grandma sent him.
This morning, my wife and I had several minutes of deep financial crisis. She had me look up the balances in our savings and checking accounts. Or lack of balances in our accounts. It was not a good way to start the day. In fact, I would say it killed any chance I had at a peaceful state of mind. My wife went so far as to say, "We shouldn't have taken that trip to the Wisconsin Dells."
Of all the worries I deal with, financial worries are the worst. They drain my energy. They hang on like a bad cold. Right now, I'm exhausted. Not because I've been working since 4 a.m. Not because I went to my daughter's chorus concert tonight. I'm exhausted because all I've been thinking about all day long are ways of supplementing my income. The only thing I've ruled out completely is a job at McDonald's.
I know this situation is temporary, and that God is watching over us. If God could get me a raise or a full-time job at the university, perhaps I'd be able to relax. Last night, I couldn't fall asleep. I think I finally drifted off around 1 a.m. That means I've gotten about three hours of sleep since Tuesday morning. I feel a little unglued, like something's knocked all the stuffing out of my favorite teddy bear.
As soon as I'm done typing this post, I'm going to bed. I'm done with worry. I'm too tired to worry. I've used up my entire supply. Now that I've mastered worry, I can start practicing trust and faith a little more. That's what's going to save my sanity.
Saint Marty isn't quite ready to give up yet.
|I've been here before|