unlikely lesson from dad...

One of the unexpected perks of being baptized as a ten-year old, was evidently receiving my very first personalized box of numbered offering envelopes. As if feeling like a brand new penny or my grandmother's vision of angels surrounding me wasn't enough to mark the occasion, the box of lick'm shut envelopes with my name on them was quite the deal. As a pre-adolescent I can still picture the view from the cry-room every Sunday morning; (where mom routinely and defiantly seated us in brazen contempt of those who condemned her for her blatant disregard for our "age"...) as well as the envelope tucked proudly inside my favorite purse. I could barely wait for the offering prayer to end and the "special music" to begin. I'd hear the footsteps of the deacon coming upstairs and there she was: the offering plate. I'd check my envelope to be sure the seal was secure; not wanting my four quarters, salvaged from the plastic margarine container next to dad's side of the bed just moments before we raced from the house, late for church once again, and landing us in the forbidden "cry-room", to fall out. It was something really special, putting that envelope in that plate. Something really, really special.

Mom always struggled with tithing. Having no income of her own and reliant on dad's, it was always hard for her to give as much as she wanted. Dad was already giving his portion to the parish where he belonged and to this day I'm still not sure how they worked all that out. I just know she would always have to ask him for something to give and I know my sister and I always hit the change bucket. We always had something, be it "mite-ish" at best.

A big surprise to my remnant of readers, but I'm not so good with money, except for spending it. I spend a fair share on myself but really love spending it on my loved ones. To a fault often times. Another big surprise is that I lack discipline. Terribly. In lots of areas, nothing specific. I've had my stints with stewardship. I believe in and recognize the importance of tithing. I have just always sucked at the envelope system. (Well, at least since I started putting my own "quarters" inside...) I'm the "catch-up-at-the-end-of-the-year" kind of gal which usually means I'm staring at a full box of numbered envelopes wrought with guilt on December 1st and feverishly making a plan to ante up before the new box arrives.

Last week while my sister and I were once again trying to sort through some things at "the house" (requiring what little discipline I do have...) I found on dad's kitchen table a box of offering envelopes. Right before I pitched them, something made me look at them a little closer and I had to smile to see the date on his next envelope: October 9, 2005. He died October 7th. I showed Veronica and we both had to smile at the man we called dad. I brought it home with me as a reminder of faithful obedience and a testimony to the faith we share.

I think I'll probably always suck at discipline. But for the last year or two I discovered a thing called "Bill Pay". I know, I know. It isn't the same as writing out that check, week by week, and perhaps I'm negating the whole tithing principle. But it beats the snot out of dusting off that box and beating myself with it. Besides, we don't even have offering envelopes anymore. I could still buy a small island with what syphons through these fingers of mine, and I know it's not too late to learn some discipline when all is said and done, but I'm hoping keeping that envelope where I can see it will help the process be a little less painful. Perhaps even a little fun.