If I Were a Rich Girl (or For the Love of Money...)

I often tell people that I am a Saks Fifth Avenue girl who was born into a Wal-Mart family. I'm not really sure how that happened exactly. I can only assume that I must have been switched at birth and some other little girl got to live the life of luxury that I had such a longing for.

I can be in the middle of a crowd.... at the mall, the airport, church, wherever.... and spot the two feet out of 1000 that are adorned with Prada shoes. Why would God give me such a gift, only to saddle me with an income that renders me unqualified to even approach a store that sells Prada shoes?

This fascination with everything designer began very early on. I was a mere ten year old girl when Brooke Shields did her first Calvin Klein jeans commercial. Because Brooke Shields said so, I, like so many other young girls in 1980, simply HAD to have Calvin Klein jeans.

That resolution faded quickly with the sound of my Mother's laughter. "Sure. I just won't buy groceries for the next month. You don't mind if we don't eat for awhile, right?" (Actually, it may not have happened exactly like that. Let's just say that it became very clear, very quickly, that I would NOT get Calvin Klein jeans.)

At the time, my Dad was pursuing a Bible college degree, after deciding in his early 30's to enter full time ministry. And so he packed up my Mom, me and my two little sisters and moved us from our hometown of Elkhart, Indiana to Chicago, Illinois. It was here he attended Moody Bible Institute while working two and sometimes even three jobs on the side in order to make ends meet.

My Mom worked part time too, and took care of us girls. She basically became a single mother for four years, since Dad was home so little during that time.

Even so, they somehow managed to conceive a fourth child during those years. When my youngest sister was born, the budget was stretched almost to the breaking point.

Fortunately we were part of a generous church. As I recall, we never went without. We got hand-me down clothes from older girls at the church, meals, and even the odd box or bag of free groceries. It wasn't unusual for anonymous money to come our way, usually during those times when the month outlasted the paychecks and we were crying out to God in sheer desperation. We even lived in our church's parsonage rent free for a short period of time as my Dad finished up his education and got ready for full-time ministry.

I'd always been something of clothes-horse. So when I began to develop an awareness of designer labels at age ten, needless to say, I was less than appreciative of the great lengths my parents went to just to keep me and my sisters from going naked. Why couldn't I have Calvin Klein jeans like some of my other friends?

Our economic situation didn't improve much after Dad entered full-time ministry. We were missionaries, and somehow managed to survive on a pittance, thanks largely to the generosity of our supporters and some of the churches in the area where my parents ministered. By high school graduation I still hadn't gotten those Calvin Kleins.

Any fleeting hope of raising my financial profile through marriage vanished when, in my first year of college, the guy I'd been dating since my last year of high school announced that he had felt the call of God on his life to pursue full-time Christian ministry. Love conquers all, right? We'd get married and live happily ever after, serving the Lord side by side. He'd work and I'd stay home with the kids we'd eventually have and life would be full of spiritual and emotional bliss.

As it turned out, those years at home with the babies were not quite as blissful as I'd anticipated. Though the churches my husband worked for while our kids were little (three in total) were generous churches, much as my childhood church had been, a pastor's salary is a pastor's salary, and a single-income household with three small kids left no place in the budget for Prada or Calvin Klein (or Baby Gap & OshKosh b'Gosh for that matter.) I had married into a Wal-Mart budget.

I would, and I must confess, still do find myself looking on with envy every time I see a Louis Vuitton handbag on someone else's arm or a funky pair of Versace glasses gracing another woman's face. Though I've developed a knack for picking out cheap knock-offs that sometimes get mistaken for the real deal, I still long to wear authentic Prada.

It's taken me a lifetime to come to terms with the idea that I will never be a rich girl. While I wouldn't trade my place in life for anything, I find myself constantly being tempted to break the Tenth Commandment. Sometimes, in the very lowest of moments, I even find myself questioning why someone such as myself, who has literally grown up in professional ministry, can't catch one small windfall of cash somewhere with which to buy a little Calvin Klein? Don't I deserve that much?

No, I don't. In reality, God owes me nothing. In fact, He gave me everything. I've been reminded of this anew the last few weeks, as our current sermon series at church has been on the topic of stewardship. It's been a powerful reminder to me that everything I have belongs to God. He measures out to each man and woman exactly what He will, and expects us to be good stewards of it, whether it's Time, Talent or Treasure (The Three T's.... thanks Pastor Jim.)

I think I have a decent handle on the "time" and "talent" thing. It's the "treasure" I still struggle with. Yes, even clergy wives have trouble giving sometimes. Sometimes I'd rather spend my money on those cute shoes than tithe. If only we made more money, then it would be easier to give, or so I sometimes like to think.

In reality, I know this to be a lie. Studies have shown clearly that when people start to make more, they simply start to spend more, and find that their attitudes towards money are the same no matter what income bracket they manage to achieve. The real mark of a steward is what's in the heart, not what's in the bank account.

I have yet to wear Prada, or Calvin Klein jeans, and I suspect that the Lord may not have bestowed upon me the state of "rich girl" because He knows I'd be consumed by my own greed. So I've learned to adjust to perpetually living in a Wal-Mart family, and practice daily being grateful for the things that are really important in life, including the amazing opportunity to serve Him alongside my husband, even without designer jeans.