Pledges

Today was Pledge Sunday at church.

I don't like Pledge Sunday much.

It's not that I mind making a pledge...I don't mind at all. Knowing that I've committed to giving so much money to church each month keeps me from spending that money on something else.

What bothers me about Pledge Sunday is the way it's handled. In the couple of years I've been a member at this church, it hasn't bothered me, but this morning it did.

Pastor's sermon started out great. He talked about giving time and talent, giving yourself, etc. And then, towards the end, someone stood up at the back of the church and said, "Excuse me, pastor, but aren't you forgetting someting?" It was totally planned...obvious that he was reading from a script. He proceeded to tell everyone about how we're also supposed to give our money. Maybe it's just me, but the way he said it seemed to nullify everything else pastor had said...as though if we don't give enough money it doesn't matter how much time and talent we give. He said that our faith can be measured by what percentage of our income we give, and he tried to back that up with scripture. I can't remember what scripture he used, but I have a problem with that statement. Does that mean that because I don't give 10% of my income, I don't have enough faith? Does that mean my faith is less than that of someone who does give 10%?

And how do you quantify faith, anyways?

So I put my envelope in the offering plate as it passed, and I made my pledge, and I felt guilty about it. Because it's not 10%. I wish it was. I wish I was able to give 15%, or more. In this matter, it's not my faith that lacks, it's my checkbook.

I left church feeling guilty, judged, and angry. That man asked me to put a dollar amount on my faith. I've been having a conversation with God about this all day, trying to figure out if he is asking me to do more. No answer has been reached yet. I'd like to be able to give more money to church.... I'd like to be able to give money to Camp Lone Star.... I'd also like to get out of debt....

My apartment used to be a home...my haven. It was my place to relax, to live.

Now it's just a place to sleep, shower, and occasionally (but only when absolutely necessary) to do laundry.

Last time I spent a Sunday afternoon at home: October 30.
Last time I cooked: October 22.
Last time I cleaned: October 21. (The only reason I know the date on these last two is because they coincided with the last time I hosted the girl's mentor group from Concordia.)
Last time I spent a Saturday afternoon at home: September 3. (Maybe...that's the most recent Saturday on my calendar that doesn't have anything on it.)
Last time I got home before 9 pm during the week (not counting Fridays): September 15.

I work full time and then some, I travel (which is technically working), I go to school half time, I play the piano about twice a month at church, where I also serve on two boards and just agreed to co-chair the board of communication, and where I'm trying to be active in the young adult group. And once or twice a month I host a group of girls at Concordia who are participating in a new mentor program.

So, what does all this amount to?

I'm busy.

And I don't know how to say no.

But here's the thing...the things I do are things I want to do. I'm enjoying school. Most of the time I love my job. I enjoy traveling, especially when it brings me to, or close to, places where I my friends live. I love playing the piano at church (since I started playing, my mom has stopped reminding me of how many thousands of dollars they spent on my piano lessons). I enjoy being on the youth board and the membership board. And I'm so excited about co-chairing the communication board (my goal is to give the church's website a makeover). I love hosting the mentor group. All of these things challenge me, and feed me. And they're my ministry. I can't say no.

The Saga of my Air Conditioner

Two weeks and three maintenance requests later, the air conditioner in my apartment finally works. After the first request, they did something, but it didn't work. After the second request, they replaced both the indoor and outdoor units, but that didn't work either. After the third request, they realized there was a freon leak and a line needed to be replaced. They replaced it Friday. Now my air conditioner works very well. And all it took was cutting a giant hole in my ceiling.

When I got home on Friday, it was covered with black trash bags duct taped in place. Very classy. And everything in my living room was covered with a layer of chalky sheetrock dust. My lungs are probably coated with a layer of dust as well. By Saturday morning, the trash bags had fallen off and were in a tangled heap on my floor. I didn't bother to try to put it back up, and I stopped trying to clean. They're supposed to come back "Monday or Tuesday" (as the note they left said) to fix the hole. I imagine they'll make just as big a mess in repairing it as they made making the hole. I spent tonight moving my stuff out of the way and covering my furniture with sheets. I don't want to see dusty fingerprints on my dark blue couch again.

Fun times at Sherrah's home....I'm glad I live in an apartment because it means I don't have to pay for any of this.