I Want My Money

I might never get the chance again.

I was in Glen Innes, on Saturday June 3rd, looking up at that big round hill that they have there, with every intention of scaling it.

People tend to climb mountains “because they’re there”, and my reasoning was no different, other than that if I didn’t climb it now, I wouldn’t get another chance before potentially returning back to the UK forever next week.

I’d just attended the second half of Winkie Pratney's conference In, Against, And For The World at Hillside Community Church (with organiser Shane and old friend Jamie) and had made a parched bee-line through the hot sun here afterwards. People climb mountains in the Bible to have a word with God about something, and my oft-recurring decision of whether my life in New Zealand had run out of gas was rearing its ugly metaphor yet again.

I’d just finished a stretch volunteering for Shane’s Christian podcasting site, which he was now moving with to Texas.

I had no paid work at present either.

So I was almost out of both money, and reasons to stay.

My plane was leaving for the UK in a few days’ time. As I kept on reminding myself, just because God has used me here for the last 2 years, doesn't automatically mean that he wants to continue using me here in the future.

Anyway, I could see no way up the hill, not on foot anyway, so I headed back to town…


… and despite the above train derailment sign, caught one back to Panmure, if nothing else because it was a bit cheaper.



The following Wednesday 7th, with no change to my situation, and despite the continued absence of many pictures of the Queen in my wallet, I stared-down the odds and moved my flight back another 3 months anyway. That pesky faith in God thing. I also had a sneaking suspicion that Phil – my boss at the Christian Broadcasting Association (CBA) – would phone with further work.

Thursday 8th – no call.

Friday 9th – no call.

Saturday 10th – no call.

I decided that scrimping would demonstrate a lack of faith in God to provide, but that overspending would be just plain stupid. So I decided to simply carry on spending as per normal. Not fearfully or foolishly – just normally. God was in control, I reasoned.

At the supermarket, 500g bags of Skippy’s corn flakes and 12-packs of toilet-rolls were on special offer. Normally I would buy these cheaply now, and store them for later.

So into my basket they went.

At the checkout, I got chatting to the cashier, and genuinely accidentally let slip that I had very little cash left, (even today, I have no idea how to fake such a revelation) and was immediately not charged for the corn flakes and toilet rolls.

So I went home and put them into storage for a future that I had no way of getting to.

Five days later – on Thursday 15th - I had exactly $28.95 cash left in my wallet. There was a little bit more in my ANZ account, but since it was less than $20, there was no way that I could withdraw it from an ATM machine, while a teller would have incurred a charge. I also still had a few little 10-year-old American and Canadian travellers-cheques, but they and the odd English note really were my last reserve in NZ. So - $28.95 then. Better spend that wisely.

As it turned out, $28.95 was the exact same amount that it would cost me to get my camera film developed. I wanted the pictures to put on this blog. Hmm – not exactly a life-or-death situation. I no longer really believe that God is even in my blogging any more – that season seems to have passed. Anyway, I spent it.

Yes, you read that right – I spent my final cent on this blog.

The following day – Friday 16th - Phil from CBA suddenly rang offering me a few weeks work starting 3 days later (today).

So - the zillion dollar question: (or the $28.95 question at least)

Did God want me to stay on in New Zealand to do the job at CBA (and everything else that will happen from this point onwards), or did he provide the job because I had chosen to stay?

Or… does God simply enjoy working together with us?