I love listening to Pitbull rap about how much money he makes. "You can't catch me boy. I'm overseas at about 100 g's for sho'..." I'm sure his life wasn't always like that - his mother was a single parent who kicked him out of the house for being a drug dealer. Pitbull himself has even admitted that the road to success hasn't exactly been a walk in the park. "It's been a constant fight," he's said. (Hence, the name Pitbull.) 

But I love listening to him rap about his wealth because he's proof that if you are determined enough to succeed at something then, sooner or later, the levee will break and: presto! You will be bathed in abundance! I like to think that wealth isn't just reserved for certain types of people, ie: people who are fortunate enough to have been born into it. I like to think that financial freedom is everyone's birthright and that it's within everyone's grasp. I like to think that God shares this view too. So why is it taking so long for me to achieve financial freedom?! Granted, I've made some financial mistakes of late and I have a sneaky suspicion that my expectations might be a little high. But, hey, Steve Jobs was a millionaire by the time he was 23 so why not dream big? 

Being broke is just so egregiously hard to digest. It's hard to digest because doing the next right thing becomes ten times harder. I'm talking about picking up the phone and letting the landlord know that the rent is going to be late. Gross. Or how about having to resort to paying the minimum payment on your credit card balance when the card is already maxed out on charges for living expenses? I'm talking groceries and supplies you need to live on, people. Not expensive shoes or fancy dinners. Sigh. The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. I shall not want. I shall not want. Hmmmmmmm.When I stop and think about it, I'm really not in dire need of anything right NOW. I have food in my stomach (that my credit card paid for) a roof over my head (for now) and my husband just texted he loves me. I guess I'm being taken care of but it's on God's terms which means I'm growing which means I'm experiencing emotional pain which I hate. If I had it my way, I would live on this little island that my sister and I spied when we went to Key West. There it was, in the middle of the ocean, a speck of moss. There I'd sleep in a hammock with my two cats. My bills would be paid (because I wouldn't have any). I would fish (which I don't know how to do, but I would learn). And I'd get six pack abs from eating only protein. I would also smoke lots and lots of weed. That's where my mind takes me, you see. The easy way out. But God's way takes me through the obstacle course of faith. God says, "You wanted me to take the wheel, right kid? Well, you're just going to have to trust me. That's YOUR job." And, the truth is, my soul is happiest when it's growing because then it knows its destiny is being fulfilled. Stupid soul. 

So, how about instead of worrying so much that I get an ulcer, I do the next right thing and have faith that that will be enough to let God know I am trusting him/her/it? Let's try it and see what happens. PEACE.