“I can do all through Christ,
Who strengthens me.”
Philippians 4:13
We were young, pouring our energies and hearts into a fledgling “street ministry.” We also had a tiny, newborn son. Taking our seats at the desk of a tax accountant to whom we had been referred, we waited for her to begin our meeting. As she looked up from our financial documents before her, she said, “I didn’t know that anyone in America can actually live on what you make!”
Thus began our first income tax meeting as a new, young family. My husband, Bill, had been
pouring his energies into reaching out to the growing numbers of troubled youth on the main street of our city. There were increasing incidences of outbreaks of violence, a developing concern with which the people of our city were becoming increasingly alarmed. Bill, who had been a troubled teenager and drug-user, had a big heart for the kids who were without any sense of purpose in life. He knew the turmoil going on inside, because he had lived through years of the same.
I, on the other hand, was a “pastor’s kid” . . . who had never even been exposed to troubled
youth who had no awareness or experience of the loving God I had come to know and love from a very early age.
When Bill and I married, our new family began immediately. Bill’s focus was on reaching the
troubled youth of our city, introducing them to Hope through Jesus, Who had changed Bill’s life. We had no “income” from our fledgling work with troubled youth.
As a “PK” (Pastor’s Kid), I was very familiar with “ministry” being a priority in life….regardless of whether income was adequate or not. It was usually not. But I had experienced God’s care and provision often in my family, so had a firm trust that God would take care of our needs as we trusted Him in the Kingdom efforts He had placed before us.
At this, our first meeting with a tax agent as a young married couple, including our newborn son, we watched her look through the financial paperwork we had brought to her. On paper, it did not look possible for our little family to survive on those financial numbers. But we had been faithfully cared for by the God Who had asked us to join Him in bringing Hope to hearts of kids who were empty and wounded. . . and without Hope.
Despite the black-and-white numbers on the tax documents, God had met our needs. And He often did it through sweet surprises from strangers, or Believers who saw a growing trail of “street kids” filing down the aisle behind Bill in a welcoming church, filling up row upon row of pews, and singing songs of gratitude to the One Who had brought Hope and Light and Love into their personal darkness.
Now, decades later, and having experienced a lifetime of holding tightly to Jesus’ scarred Hand, I am so very grateful for His Presence in my life. . . . through the good and the bad. He has been that Constant Source of Strength . . . and all that I have needed through the many
decades I have walked with Him. He remains faithful.
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