Three Lessons of Adulthood I Learned as a Child

I'm getting married in 33 days, and I turn 25 in 10 days. Needless to say, if adulthood hasn't kicked in yet, it's about to really kick my butt. But when does one enter "adulthood"? When they reach a certain age, when they mentally mature to a particular degree? When we start paying bills and making life-altering decisions? (Hopefully not because that would mean some of us became adults before we became teenagers.) How do you measure it? What's the stick? What's the line? Where do we cross it and how? 

I don't know if any of us really know, because some of us never enter adulthood (and those of you who work in customer service can say "Amen!" right about now). But as I was driving up to the closest coffeeshop to my ghetto little corner--which I leave in 17 days, thank the Lord!--I began to think about a statement I heard not too long ago in that adults are simply overgrown kids. And even now as I sit, and I watch, and I "stalk" and stare just a moment too long, I can see it. Everyone here, from the hipster college gal sitting across from me, to the teen flipping his football in line, to the business man in a suit waiting for his latte behind me, to the old man reading his newspaper in the big, comfy chair with a tall Americano, to the graphic designer with Beats by Dre headphones, and even the New York accented older employee named "Mark" who is making his fellow workers laugh, we are all just overgrown kids. But sadly, we forget that because we reach a certain age or go to a certain place in our education or work and suddenly our minds transition to "oh, I need to be an adult now." Which is a good thing, because let's face it, none of us like those adults who act like children, but it's also a detrimental thing when we allow that to make us think we have to be independent from the Lord's help. Sure we can be independent from our parents' support and help, and we should all reach that place at one time or another, but when we reach that place of "It's okay, God, I got this," while we are struggling with a box far bigger than we are that hasn't even lifted the ground, and we are breaking our backs to even just slide it where we think it needs to be because we are "adults" and we need to take care of things on our own. 

I got a very humbling, rather large, taste of this independence bites the butt piece of pie earlier this year right after I graduated from CFNI. I thought, hey, I have a degree now (who cares if it is or isn't accredited, it's proof of an accomplishment that took three years of my life and I am dang proud of it!). And since I have a degree now I need to be more responsible, because that's what degrees mean. They mean jobs, real jobs, they mean life-changing decisions--quite literally as it was twenty minutes after I graduated, while I still wore my cap and gown, that Rhys got down on one knee and proposed. So that changed a lot of things too. I had decided a few months prior that I wanted to stay in Texas but I wasn't sure if I was supposed to, so I told God if He wanted me to then I needed something to prove that it was his will, like an engagement ring. (And boom, two weeks later there it was.) So I was looking for an apartment, but I had to find one that was close to work because my budget was tighter than a pair of yoga pants on a voluptuous, fat lady that doesn't realize you shouldn't wear those in public. Or Walmart. I finally found one at the last minute, four days before I had to move out of CFNI, but things are NEVER as they seem I am learning. 

When I first got there, I knew the neighborhood was sketch, not quite Oak Cliff sketch, but it was close. It would be North Washington Avenue and F Street in Vegas close. (That's where YWAM Vegas is located, and when I lived there they had an average of 5-8 murders a month.) But the problem is even though I lived in Oak Cliff I was on CFNI's grounds and we had guards and gates, and even the old YWAM base was a renovated rehab center that had gate codes on four doors (two of which were inside and led to the dorms) and it had bulletproof glass windows. But this new place was supposed to have a guard 24 hours and three gates that had key pads you swiped to open. Since I moved there on May 17, I have seen that stupid "guard" three times (once being the time I went to the office to sign the lease), and the gate has been broken and left wide open the entire time except for four weeks. (Yes, I've counted.) My only sense of security was their sick idea to put all of us white people in the same building on the third floor, the Mexicans on the second, and the African Americans on the first which is under ground level. I would hear car alarms of all kinds from "hey dummy, you locked your keys in here and now I'm gonna let everyone know as you try to break in" to "OMG SOMEONE THAT DOESN'T BELONG HERE IS ATTACKING ME, HELP" to "I'VE BEEN HIT!" at all hours of the night. The first month I would park where I could see my car as I was terrified it was mine, and then I just started slowly trusting that Jesus would take care of my car, and i started parking closer to the building so I wouldn't have to walk as far since I would get home between 10-Midnight most nights. I've heard a lot of screaming babies and screaming drunks, and one time about two months ago I had one lady think it would be smart to go outside and tell another neighbor in her theatrical voice level how she told this, and I quote, "$3 whore out into the parking lot where she would shoot her brains out" after they had a knife stand-off in the kitchen. I had half a mind to call the cops before the "drunken whore" was picked up by some random guy in a very loud truck, but since it was a personal dispute I knew they wouldn't do anything. Plus, they come through my neighborhood enough as is. Then there was the creep who would watch me from his car leave my car and go to my house every night and sometimes in the afternoon, never saying a word to me, just watching, for the first three weeks.

Oh, and did I mention the rent alone to this place cost me $575 a month? (That doesn't include my utility bills like electricity and water, with all that I was paying about $650/month.)

I'm pretty sure I paid more for the increase of my faith and prayer language than I did for the scenery and entertainment and "security." I put my 30 day notice in two weeks ago, and I got an email saying "Oh how we will miss you! Won't you stay? What can we do to make you stay with us longer?" (Mind you they wanted to up my lease to $605/month with an 11 month contract lease.) I emailed them back telling them what I have experienced and seen and that they would not have me stay a day longer than I needed. (It's also a whole new staff in the office than the ones I had when I signed, and it's only been five months.) 

So, Lesson #1 about Adulthood: DO YOUR RESEARCH &  DO NOT SETTLE. 

Granted, I didn't really have a choice or say in the manner as I literally contacted and looked at over 80 apartments in three months, and had three search agencies working with me to find one, and this is the best they could do with the time frame I had. 

Lesson Learned: I can be independent all I want, but at the end of the day, it is the Lord God alone, the Host of Heaven, that can protect me from the hand of my enemies (seen and unseen). 

Now here's the opposite side of that, and another swift kick in the butt about being dependent on God. While I had no peace at home, I struggled to keep it. I got a job at a hotel (the "humans hotel" as I like to call it) in January, and when I graduated I told them I could work full time--and was banking on that to support me enough to stay here in Texas. The problem is plans never seem to go the way we want, or expect. Not only was I living in a place that was detrimental to my health, but glorious for my faith, I couldn't afford it. Unfortunately, the hotel could not get me more than 36 hours a week on average, and when I had done my budget to find an apartment to begin with I couldn't make less than 38 for it to work. Granted, that was just one of those things that are out of your control and you have to do the best with what you've got. Thankfully, my parents blessed me with some money as a graduation gift so that's the only way I never got booted, but even my parent's blessing could only go so far. By August I began having the ultimate panic attack as my bank account was depleting as even with my budget I couldn't break even. And it wasn't helping that I was now stuck working ten hour shifts three days a week, leaving me with four off. (Granted, that was great so I could rest and see Rhys, but Rhys was 36 miles away one way, and I drive a 2004 Mustang that gets 14 mpg if she's lucky.) So I started looking for a second job, which I never thought in my wildest dreams I would end up doing, but when the rubber meets the road, you don't have much of a choice. 

It wasn't that I wasn't trusting God, mind you, I was definitely trusting Him, and even though things were very tight I made sure that I was tithing because I know from personal experience that if I honor Him with a small amount of what He has given to me, he will take care of me. It was more of an "I TRUST YOU BECAUSE I HAVE NO OTHER OPTION" than anything else. I know it seems like a backwards concept, but it's so true. When you sacrificially give to God, which when you make no money even that little 10% could go a long way in gas and food, you are not only telling Him you trust Him, but you are telling your flesh to shut up and rely on the Big Guy Upstairs because your brain, your heart, your soul, your flesh cannot compete and can do nothing on its own. I will admit, I stopped tithing for awhile because I thought I needed that 10%, but after being heavily convicted about it, I gave it another shot. And shortly after I was told about a job that had a guarantee of more hours, full time, and it paid $4/hour more to start than what I was currently making, Two weeks after that, I got the job. And it was the exact same distance as the hotel from my current apartment, but it was in the opposite direction and it brought me 11 miles closer to Rhys meaning I could easily keep it after we are married--and it had full health benefits included and would guarantee the same for Rhys if I paid a little more. Since starting this job, I have gotten overtime almost every week, and make in one week more than half of what I did at the hotel in a month. I am not saying to this brag, rather I am saying it to prove lesson #2 about adulthood I learned:

Lesson #2: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

When I was leaning on my own understanding, I was freaking out by the 3rd of every month as my bank account would be cut in half. Thankfully, the hotel did feed me three nights a week so that helped with bills, and random people would give me tips for driving the shuttle, or checks would come in the mail from kind-hearted people that love me (THANK YOU, GRAMA!). But that doesn't mean it was easy. Not by a long shot. It's hard as crap to have nothing and to still be willing to give it to God. I can't even imagine how hard it may have been for the widow who gave her last mite and was scoffed at by the Pharisees who gave so much but kept even more for themselves. Or maybe it was the opposite, maybe it was a joy for her to sacrifice because she knew God would provide. Maybe she had been in that time many times before, but she knew from past experiences that God would take care of her. Who knows? We never will this side of heaven, but we know that her heart was at (some level of) peace because if it wasn't she would have kept it for herself. I have to say, I'm not there yet personally, even though I am making a lot more money, I still am somewhat freaked out as I am about to move to a new apartment (which is so stupid expensive), my car could use a tune up as it is 11 years old, I am getting married which means moving things from Vegas to Dallas, which means a lot of money, I no longer get free meals and I am trying to eat healthier which means more money than the junk food, I had to register my car and get Texas plates and a new license, and I have to get another one in a few weeks as I will be changing my name which also means new social security card and bank account switcheroo's and a lot of other stuff that "adults do." There will always be something that requires the attention of money, and for most of us on planet Earth, we don't have that luxury of wasting cash like it's water because we have so much to spare. (Unless you live in the condos where I work in which case most of them are multi-millionaires, but the richest one of them all is also the humblest, which I think is super cool.) 

While driving to work last week, I was caught up in money and thinking of everything I needed to do and what it would cost, and how I was foolish and spent a little too much here and there, and the Holy Spirit stopped me mid-sentence and asked, "Lauren, who pays your bills?" I paused and thought about it for a minute before realizing, "You do, Lord." I could hear Him smile, then He asked, "So who do you think provides your paycheck? Man or Me?" Then I was the one smiling, "You do, Lord," I said. "So why are you so scared of not having enough? If I pay your paycheck, and I pay your bills, and I have more money than any this world has ever seen, why are you so worried? I could burn up all the money in an instant, and yet I will still be the one who pays your paycheck and pays your bills."

(Noted.)

The third and, for now, final lesson I learned is one I am still learning which ties into lessons 1 and 2. As I mentioned in the first sentence, I am getting married in 33 days, and as much as I love Rhys, he is not perfect, nor will he ever be. He will make me upset at times, but he also knows how to make me laugh, or at least smile, when I am feeling down. He knows how to encourage me and he knows how to combine the right set of words that make me shut up and think about what I am going to say because I am being more human than holy. But then he hugs me because he feels bad that I feel bad even though I brought it on myself because I was acted out of flesh rather than the Spirit. Proverbs 17 says it is good to find friends who sharpen one another as iron sharpens iron, and indeed Rhys and I do that well together. We are best friends who can tell each other anything, when we get the courage to do so as we are also a couple and learning how to word things and share at the right moment. Rhys has proven his love for me time and time again, and this last week he proved me wrong in that I am now questioning if maybe he does love me more than I love him as he shared a surprise of what and where we will be on our honeymoon. We have this thing, this phrase, that we coined as our own where one of us will say, "I love you", the other replies, "I love you more", and rather than the cliche ending the other will say, "then PROVE it." So our love and our lives are based on this friendly competition, which totally suits our personalities as we love a good challenge, of how to prove to the other that we do indeed love them more. We aren't doing it in a way of lording it or berating the other for loving less, we just do it because we both have so much love that we want to pour out, and we know that the other will receive it well. 

This is how I want to be with Jesus, even though I know I'll lose, but I can still try. I can still prove that I love Him more today than I did yesterday with my actions, my gifts, my thoughts and my words. And yes, I know he will prove me wrong, and just like Rhys did last week, I may think "crap, I have to up my game because I think maybe He really does love me more than I love him," but in the midst of that statement is a glorious treasure that can be overlooked. And that is the proof that it doesn't matter who loves who more because, right now, in this moment I know that HE LOVES ME. It doesn't matter what else happens or what anyone else says, I know that I know that I KNOW He loves me. Rhys loves me and that is what drove him to go above and beyond my expectations and surprise me with this gift on our honeymoon. Jesus loves me and proved it in that He went above and beyond the expectations in that not only did He die for us, but Hebrews 5 says he suffered like us. He understands humanity to the fullest because He allowed Himself to suffer in every way we have and will suffer which is why Hebrews calls Him our High Priest who comes on our behalf to represent us. Why? Simply for the fact that HE LOVES US. 

As a child we don't question how we are going to keep our home, what we will eat, how we will dress, who will protect us, what we must do to be loved, or even how we are going to pay for everyday necessities. We rely on our parents and we trust that they will take care of us. We are dependent on them. And though we may be adults now, we are still called the "children of God" because we are meant to rely on Him wholly and fully in every aspect of life. We are not meant to worry, and fret and fear and freak. We are to trust Him. We are to allow Him to be our Father, our Padre, our Daddy, our Papa. American culture says you need to be independent and rely on yourself, unless your parents are filthy rich and then you should make them spoil you and buy everything you want because they have the money for it. But the Kingdom culture says we should rely on the Father and allow Him to bless us because He loves us, and sometimes that blessing may seem better than we feel deserving, but it doesn't matter, He is blessing you because you bless Him with the way you act, live, speak and how you simply let Him be the adult and remember that you are His child.

An overgrown, highly mature, and quite possibly, as is in my case, "giant bodied" child, but His child nonetheless.

-Saint