The first few weeks of each semester are turning out to be really expensive.
My very first semester, there was the flood (and subsequent move).
Second semester, Dave's car was totaled in a 5-car pileup.
Last week, our (remaining) car was hit while parked, and Saturday night (in a totally unrelated way), it died while we were driving. We're waiting to hear the final verdict, but there's a strong possibility it'll need a new engine. (And then there's the conversation about the wisdom of bothering to put a new engine in an '06 Hyundai Accent...)
I'm grateful (far more than I can say) that no one was hurt during any of these events. I feel so lucky about that. Also, I'm an rock star at adapting, and I'm highly proficient at making things work. (Seriously: these things are in my DNA. We've evolved into people who can do anything at all with just a piece of string and a Rubbermaid container.)
The expense of these things calls my attention to my experience of seminary, though. Seminary tuition feels like buying a new washing machine. I'm not having the mountaintop experience here that many other people do-- and while that's fine with me, I do feel a lot of external pressure about it. This seems strange-- the assumption that we'll all have the same experience (or that this will so far surpass our prior experiences).
Watching where our money goes is a great way of noticing what's important. This week, I'm noticing it more than usual. I'm looking at our savings, and thinking about where we hope (though cannot expect) to be in 5 years. Where is my treasure going-- and what does it say about my heart? I don't really have answers at the moment, but it's an important question.
Insight from Different Versions of Psalm 126
12 hours ago