When preparing for Tadesse and Biruk to come home from Ethiopia, one of tasks I really enjoyed was purchasing the shoes, clothing, bedding, and a few toys that I anticipated that they would need. One part was difficult, however; we were advised not to start them off with all the items that our other children possessed. After all, the possessions of our other children took years to accumulate. Caleb, Kaylee, and Elijah earned and saved their money to buy electronics and toys. Relatives gave them additional gifts for their birthdays and at Christmas, resulting in bedrooms almost bulging in kid stuff.
When Tadesse and Biruk came home from Ethiopia, we consciously provided them with everything they needed but allowed room for them to acquire the things that they wanted.
This is more difficult than one would think. How many pairs of shoes do little boys need? Tadesse and Biruk went without shoes until they went to the orphanage in Wuchale. (Can you imagine getting used to shoes at the ages of eight and eleven?) We purchased them three pairs each: two pairs of tennis shoes and a pair of church shoes.
When November rolled around and the weather turned colder, I was perplexed by a demand from Tadesse, who was learning basic English: “Mom! Shoes, me! Shoes, me!” I would take him to his basket of shoes and show him the three pairs that I had purchased. He kept insisting, “Shoes, me!”
So I did something I can do pretty well. I became frustrated. To me, this son of mine was expressing ingratitude. I had bought him three (high quality!) pairs of shoes, and he was already nagging me for more. The nerve.
The weather that week continued to worsen, and after a few days, I finally realized that Tadesse was just asking for snow boots. When I explained that I would get them soon, he was satisfied. Still, as a parent who provided for him, I was exasperated that he was asking for more than what I had already provided. I wanted him to trust me that I would provide exactly what he needed precisely when he needed it.
I am much the same as my dear son Tadesse. The other day I purchased a National Geographic magazine called Best of Europe: 100 Must-See Destinations. I paged through it, thinking of dreamy vacations in gorgeous locations.
Now, I have had more travel opportunities than many; I took five of my students on a ten-day, four-country excursion through Europe. I visited Mexico and Canada with my parents. I went on a short-term mission trip with my in-laws to Haiti. I went to Ethiopia not once, but twice. Yet my travels still seem to whet my appetite for more.
I mentioned the magazine purchase to one of my friends, who said, “Just pull a C-note from the money tree, Tami.”
This was a much needed wake-up call because if I happened to have a money tree growing in the back yard, I am quite confident that I should not spend that money traveling. Or buying myself the granite countertop I’ve been thinking about. Or buying a brand new Suburban.
I thought back to Tadesse and the shoes. I had provided and sacrificed for him, yet when he asked for more (even though I had planned to provide him with those snow boots), it somehow hurt that he was asking for it.
I need to trust God to provide for me—just what I need, precisely when I need it.
The world is filled with hurting people who don’t have shoes or the means to provide their families with shelter. I am buying National Geographic magazines highlighting exotic travel locations.
There is something wrong with that, and there is something wrong with me constantly pining over things I don’t need. At least I know just where to go to get the help needed for me to change.
Heavenly Father, thank you for not only providing for my needs, but for blessing me with incredible experiences and people who love me. Help me, Lord, to be grateful and content with what I already have. Amen.
