This is us celebrating Valentines Day 2019.
We had never celebrated Valentines Day before, mainly because we were always broke on Valentines Day, but also because we don't really care to celebrate it.
This time I had read there was going to be an outdoor cinema set up at the Canal building with a free entrance to watch COCO, the pixar movie.
I told my mom and also sent her an ad about half a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts free for the purchase of the other half.
"Movies and donuts for Valentines?" I texted. She replied with very excited emojis.
There we were watching COCO and crying our eyes out because of how much she reminded us of our own grandma. The movie ends with Miguel singing and fireworks going off in the distance.
Little did we know real life fireworks would go off at the same time. It was quite spectacular. We had never been so close to fireworks.
That is when my husband said to me: "Best Valentines Day ever!"
My husband had been warned by his employer that he might lose his job because he still holds a student visa. His employer had taken him and the rest of his employees to lunch that very same Valentines Day. He treated them to a fancy lunch at a posh restaurant. He even brought each a box of chocolates (which Rodol gave to me) and sang praises of the wonderful job they were making.
"I don't think I am going to lose my job," was the first thing my husband said when he came back from work that Thursday. We had been on edge stressing about him losing his job wondering what we were going to do. Those were good news to be able to enjoy the rest of the day and finish it on a high.
The joy was short lived. My husband lost his job the very next day.
It was the worst time possible for us to lose our income. The 4 of us had upcoming appointments with immigration to sort out our residency. I had been saving all I could with what little we make, and I knew the $1,000 I had saved would still not be enough for all the expenses for our paperwork. We had no savings for such a time because all our savings wouldn't even be enough to cover what we were about to spend.
My husband was able to get his visa renewed without issues, but the girls and I had several issues and had to remake several documents spending unnecessary dollars. I have a new respect for immigrants. Oh boy, I struggle with a good family support system (I know I won't go homeless), with good education and good work experience, good friends and good connections, good church who offered to help us out with some money. How do those people who immigrate without all of the above do it?
I know my struggles are so small.
My dear friend Bram gave me a book with all of C.S. Lewis classic books in one for Christmas. I've been reading "The Problem with Pain." It is amazing!
2 Corinthians 1:8-9
"8 We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. 9 Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. 10 He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us"
The book has really spoken to my heart.
This excerpt from the book especially hit home with what I just told you of our situation.
"I am progressing along the
path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow
or a bit of work that tickles my vanity to-day, a holiday or a new
book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threatens us all
with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down.
At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like
broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring
myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I
remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess
my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real
treasure is Christ. And perhaps, by God’s grace, I succeed, and for
a day or two become a creature consciously dependent on God
and drawing its strength from the right sources. But the moment
the threat is withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys:
I am even anxious, God forgive me, to banish from my mind the
only thing that supported me under the threat because it is now
associated with the misery of those few days."
Sounds familiar?
Yesterday I was counting all the women I've met with active breast cancer (I've met many women who HAD breast cancer years ago. I was trying to list women who I met when their cancer was active). I counted five women, including myself. Of the the five, only one is still alive: me. How have I gone through something like that and still let something like losing a job make me fear or worry?
How have I endured such pain and require more pain for the perfecting of my faith?
"God has had me for but forty-eight hours and then only by dint of taking everything else
away from me. Let Him but sheathe that sword for a moment
and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over — I shake
myself as dry as I can and race off to reacquire my comfortable
dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest
flower bed."
" But if suffering is good, ought it not to be pursued rather
than avoided? I answer that suffering is not good in itself. What
is good in any painful experience is, for the sufferer, his submission to the will of God"
I constantly tell my husband, when he despairs of our misfortunes that seem to never let go, that God will not give him what he asks, even if he asks not for riches but for sustenance (for the ability to provide for our needs), if answering that prayer would mean he would lose what matters most. If he had a job that gave him more than he needs, but keeps him from seeking and serving God, from being the good husband and father he is, what good would that be? Or if the vanity of a good career gets too tempting? I would rather keep living without knowing how we make ends meet than to be cursed with a life not centered in Christ but centered in us. That life could even cost us that "us". I see so many broken families and I know God is good to me. Only His goodness sustains my family together. I tell my husband that God will answer our prayers only when we are ready to receive what we have asked. He will not let us be as we are. That is not what a loving parent does. A loving parent will correct his child and fight to "break his will" so that the child learns obedience and manners. Why are we so rebellious when God does that to us?
Since the life of Christ is every way most bitter to nature and the
Self and the Me (for in the true life of Christ, the Self and the Me
and nature must be forsaken and lost and die altogether), therefore
in each of us, nature hath a horror of it.
Theologia Germanica, XX.
Dear Lord,
It hurts. It hurts seeing my husband lose a job he worked on so diligently. He is kind to everyone, he is helpful, honest, and shows integrity and prudence. He should succeed in everything he does for there are few men quite as extraordinary as him. But Lord, we trust You are teaching both of us in our struggles. We trust You will provide for our needs, but before providing for our physical needs, You provide for our spiritual needs. You know we need You. You know we must seek You. You call us to You. Why do You call these unworthy humans? We don't know, but we are grateful You do. Help us not despair. Help us keep our eyes on You. Let this painful time we are experiencing bring us closer to You, but a closeness that is lasting. Let us not require hardship because in good times we forget Who sustains us. I rejoice in You greatly. When my husband gave me the news I was tempted to say "Show us Your faithfulness, God." But then I thought: "I take it back. I don't need to ask You to show me Your faithfulness. Just the fact that I am here proves that. I know, Father, that even if I wasn't here anymore, You would still be faithful." Thank you for that beautiful Valentines Day. It was indeed the best one we've had yet. I love You, Father.
