Money In the Ocean: A Testimony of Provision

We’ve all heard the saying “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” …but would you believe me if I told you that sometimes, it washes up on shores?

Maybe you’ve seen the splendor of the Provider enough to have the faith to believe me, or maybe you just really want to scratch the itch of curiosity, wondering how crazy I think you are to continue on with this story… Either way, it must be told.

Three years ago, I undertook the first great adventure and leap of faith in my life, namely, the Campus Outreach Summer Beach Project. The many details of this Summer were a blur to me: 8 weeks in Myrtle Beach; meet 150 other college students; learn how to share your faith; grow in your walk with the Lord… oh, and one other thing… raising $1650.

Gulp.

Small town girl learning to survive the expenses of college through the gracious provision of parents and babysitting money set out to learn how to walk by faith and not by sight.

Call it child-like faith or foolishness, but I knew that I knew that I KNEW that God would provide. And for the very first time in my life, it felt so good to step out into the water and walk to Jesus.

What I didn’t realize was that the water I was walking on (metaphorically speaking, of course) was quite tumultuous. I barely raised half of the support before actually arriving to SBP, where I worked at NASCAR speedpark to not only share my faith with co-workers, but also to pay off the rest of my SBP debt.

Now, all of the amazing friends that I had made at UNCG who had persuaded me to take this leap of faith had left out the messy bits… the “joys” of Myrtle Beach traffic and bustle, the long work days and training evenings, the heat- oh, the heat!, the discomfort of stepping out of your comfort zone, the brokenness that comes from a wicked heart being chiseled away, and the necessity of faith to believe in the impossible… all the time.

Looking back, the messy bits are my favorite part. They are the dirt and spit that Jesus wiped onto the eyes of the blind man to make him see and the tears and hair of the whore made whole. The messy bits are what transformed my heart to shape it like my Father’s. And they always warm up the deadened soul to awake and feel so that when worship flows forth, its nutrients absorb right into the very fibers of my being. Life with God happens at SBP.

So let me take you to my last day there that Summer. My roommates and I spent hours and hours cleaning out our tiny hotel room that had become a make-shift home to our little family of four girls who had been complete strangers two months earlier.

When I say I hate goodbyes, I don’t mean it in that I-cry-when-someone-I-love-leaves kind of way, but in that can-I-just-leave-and-pretend-I’ll-see-you-tomorrow? kind of way. I hated knowing that we only had one more day together. So, preferring my “flight” above “fight” option, I grabbed my iPod and crossed the street toward the beach.

Wandering feet sank into Myrtle Beach sand and were renewed by its salty slush of ocean water. I breathed deeply, embraced farmer’s tan that would be sure to develop as the beating sun hit burnt arms, and flowed to the tunes of worship in my ears.

As I walked, the words of “Nothing But the Blood” pierced my heart of conviction. You see, although I had determined to trust God with “my” finances this Summer, I had to admit that I was a little disappointed that His provision looked like a few faithful supporters and a whole Summer’s hard work at a Speed park. Instead of being amazed that He did, in fact, provide for me, I had been nurturing anxiety about how I would enter the next semester of school with a nearly empty bank account, already doubting the character that He had just revealed to me.

 “What can wash away my sin? …Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

What can make me whole again? …Nothing but the blood of Jesus!”

Conviction. I still had a lesson or two to learn in this day; God provides in the ways that He sees fit. For me, that was a new heart, which was more eternally valuable than any bank account.

So I kept walking, kept feeling the washing of the tide on my feet, faithful like my King. Surrender, once again.

And that’s when I felt it… something-not-water on top of water. I jumped with a little squeal, terrified that some sea creature had attached itself to my ankle. Looking down, I stared in a daze at the ten-dollar-bill glued to my leg and the sheets of bills washing in with the next wave- $1's, $5’s, $10’s, and $20’s.

Yeah, I know. I thought it was crazy, too. I looked around and amazingly, there was no one for about a quarter of a mile either way, which is very unusual for Myrtle Beach in July. So what did I do? –I laughed, amused that I had been set up and was looking around for the hidden camera. It only took about five seconds of this for me to realize that the money was washing away into the ocean… and no one was running after it or popping out of the sand dunes yelling “Gotcha!”

            Confused, but willing, I stepped into the water and scooped up all that I could before the rest was washed away to become seagull bait. For a moment, all I could do was stare. I looked all around… scanned the ocean for some man to come running in, claiming that the money had fallen out of his wallet while swimming… something! But there was nothing. No explanation. No one to claim it.

            Unsure of what to do, I counted it: $120.

            I laughed and I cried and I treasured the money, not for what it could buy me, but for what it represented: the loving provision of the Father who delights in teaching His children, drawing them near, and preparing the Way for them.

“…Go, do all that is in thine heart; for the LORD is with thee.”
 -2 Samuel 7:3