Thomas hearts Cali

With the preparation of moving back to California, I’ve had to get some things taken care of in advance. One of those major things, getting Thomas prepared for the trip. Thomas and I normally get along. I love him with all my heart. I can always count on him. However, he’s so dang expensive!

Today, I spent a good part of the afternoon looking for new shoes for him. I went to five different places getting different brands and prices. Why do new shoes (tires) for a car need to be so expensive? It’s insane and all the extra fee’s that different places add on: installation, depositing of used tire, state tire tax, etc. It’s crazy. And I have to admit, I have no clue what I’m doing. But I got enough prices and brands to do some good research.

Now, it would be one thing if all Thomas needed was tires, but last week he got an oil change, his side mirror fixed (okay, that was kind of my fault…), a bath, and presents to make him look pretty and smell good.

He’s one expensive kid. But he’s loving the attention. And he’s super excited for the drive home! Well, my home – Cali, not his home – Texas. He’s going to see tons of new states, get a new home and drive for a really long time. He’s stoked. He’s not going to love the idea of Cali as much once we get there and he sees the traffic. Shhh. I’m kind of leaving that tiny detail from him.

But overall the preparation of moving back to California is moving along nicely. I have most of my things packed (couldn’t pack my clothes or technology – are you kidding me!), I already have my route planned, working on the hotel reservation, working on my transfer to another corporate store and I semi-have a good amount of money saved (a few hundred, but that will all disappear when I buy Thomas his shoes – dang car!).

Things are going well. Let’s just hope they stay that way…

It will be Okay

The last few years have been hard on me in many ways, but one key issue that continues to make me doubt and have fear - is finances.

When I first started to “live my own life,” I relied heavily on a family that was helping me get on my own feet. Before them, I relied heavily on my dad for everything I needed. After I was able to (semi) provide for myself, I was able to not rely as much on the family or on my dad. However, things happen and I end up having to rely/ask for help.

One person, that is always there for me, and I know will always be there for me – is my dad. This past summer I borrowed money from my dad. He told me that he wanted the money by Christmas. At the time, I had no doubt in my mind that I would be able to pay him back. But, as life goes my circumstances changed and it became less and less of a reality that I would be able to pay him back.

The last few weeks, I’ve been getting more hours and working extra shifts. I’ve been trying to get extra money anywhere I can. When I received my check this past week, I was extremely blessed to find that I was given enough money to pay back my dad.

I came home after depositing the check and went to my file folder to grab my checkbook but couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere in the file folder. I than started to look throughout my room, but still couldn’t find it. Through this whole situation, I continued to tell myself that it would be fine and that my checkbook was somewhere in my room.

However, I couldn’t help but to feel as if everything was against me to pay my dad back. I try so hard to make him proud of me. I try so hard to do things that he would approve of. I don’t like when I disappoint him.

While in a high emotional panic of looking for my checkbook, I stopped and prayed that I would be able to find my checkbook to pay my dad back. I than cleaned up my room, while looking for the checkbook, and once again looked through my file folder. And right where it always is, I found my book.

I took the checkbook out of the file, wrote my check and placed the checkbook back. I than drove to the post office and mailed the package, along with the check, that I had for my dad for Christmas.

I got a call from my dad today saying he received the package.

“Thank you for the card, and the check. I had completely forgotten about the money. Thank you for keeping your word… I’m proud of you. At least I know you got one thing from me. My word.”

My dad always jokes that I’m my mother’s daughter. He also says that he’s very glad that I got most of her traits, morals and principles. He always says that he’s happy I’m more like her, than like him. To hear my dad say that he’s proud of me and that he’s glad that I got a trait from him – makes me happier than I can express.

I don’t get my dad’s verbal approval often, but to know that he recognizes the attempts I’m making gives me hope that one day everything will be okay.

Monies. Monies. Monies.

The last few weeks have been really tough. With so much uncertainty in my life I've been a little stressed. There's so much going on and it seems as if everything relies on money. 

I work at a coffee shop. It's a tiny little store that not too many people know about. We might not have herds of people a day, but we do have a good amount of faithful and regular customers. 

I've been working at the coffee shop since January and over the months I've become close to a few customers. 

It's always nice to have someone come in, shout your name and ask you how Thomas is doing (James and Nancy). To receive cards, scriptures and knick knack's. I feel loved and cared for when a customer comes in just to talk to me cause they had a few free minutes. 

And it means the world to me when these same customers worry about my well being. When Marty was having issues, customers gave me numbers to mechanics (a customer continually fixed Marty). When I've had to find new places to live, customers have brought in numbers and ad's they've found. When I was looking for Thomas, I had customers giving me tips what to look for. When I'm down and loosing hope, customers pray for me on the spot. 

I love my customers. They're the reason why I'm still around. 

There's a couple that comes in the coffee shop almost everyday. I sit and talk with them. We have our own private inside jokes. We can almost read each offers thoughts. I truly love this couple. 

They came in one day and the wife demanded that I give her my purse. I looked at her suspiciously and asked why. She said: "Just give me the dang purse and don't ask me questions." I handed her my purse, she dug through the context and found my wallet. She opened it and pulled out large bills from her pocket. She placed them in my wallet and gave me back the purse. 

I stared at her in shock. "What are you doing?" I stared at the purse not sure if I dared to take it back. "It's for you. We decided that you need some savings." She smiled and refused to argue. 

A few days later another regular couple came in. The wife came to the register to order their drinks and hands me an envelope. I grab the envelope and ask her what's up? "I meet with a group of women from the community. Our goal is to help young women. Either through prayer, support or encouragement." She said with a smile. I open the envelope and inside is a very loving, caring and encouraging word. Along with some large and small bills. 

The way tips work at our shop is that they need to be placed in our hand.  I don't look at the tips when they're handed to me. I just take them and say thank you. At the end of the week I gather all my tips and deposit them into the bank. 

Yesterday, I got off work went to the bank and began to count my tips. I pull the tips of the day out of my pocket and unfold them. I see a bill twisted up with a 5 showing. I smile and get excited as I think that a customer gave me a 5 dollar bill for a tip! I unfold the tip to also see a 0. A customer had tipped me a 50 dollar bill and I hadn't even noticed!

I sit in Thomas, in front of the bank freaking out! 

In the last two weeks customers have blessed me with over $330 dollars. Just random gifts to show me that they love and care. Their way to show me. And Gods way to show me. 

God continues to see my needs, fears, and wanting.  
And He's still providing.
He hasn't left.