Some have said, “You will grow too fast, and you will never have enough money to keep Project C.U.R.E. afloat.”
I’ve thought about that a lot … even on this trip while sitting in the hotel room cooling my jet engines.It appears that we will need money for phones, computers, insurance, trucks, fuel, repairs on donated equipment, travel, training, utilities, office supplies, printing, postage, forklifts, pallet jacks, program software, maintenance and upkeep, container shipments … for … for … for … And that’s for each satellite location as well as the home office in Denver.
It would only take half a brain and one eye to conclude that this is an impossible thing to accomplish. I can’t do it; I know that. I don’t suffer under any false illusions … but I do have a very wealthy personal friend, and I have had the occasion to keep him fully apprised of the entire project. In fact, most of the successful ideas we are now implementing came at his suggestion. When I tell him what’s happening and the fact that we will have shipped, just this year alone, over fifty containers to forty different countries, and the worth of those loads over the past two years equals nearly $20,000,000 (that’s twenty million for those who keep track of zeros), and it was done with almost no money, I get this picture in my mind that I will see a twinkle in his eye and a slight grin at the left corner of his mouth.
And he will quietly whisper under his breath, “Oh yes, and don’t forget the healing that took place in the bodies of many of my children, and the hope that was ignited in the hearts of thousands of my hurting pilgrims who had just about stumbled over to the side of the road to sit down and quit the trek because it seemed there was just no use in going on to the next oasis.”
This wealthy friend of mine just may be showing me another lesson about money. I had to learn once before a very traumatic lesson in his school of eternal economics. He kindly tutored me in the fact that I was, indeed, addicted to the money. It was kind of painful, as I recall, going through the process of breaking that addiction. And, little by little, his curriculum has brought me to the conclusion that he owns and is presently actively involved in managing absolutely everything that exists in this present time-space continuum called life and earth and wealth and stuff.
So I guess I have come to the unorthodox conclusion that I am not going to harp on him about money to meet the needs of Project C.U.R.E. That would tarnish the picture of his true creativity and perhaps even insult him—and I have learned that proper conduct definitely does not include insulting the wealthy.
However, with great importunity, I have decided to bug the daylights out of him to appropriate adequate resources to carry out what he has already started in us as a good work. For that request I feel perfectly at ease bursting into his secret place and blurting out, “Abba, Daddy, please help me. We’re trying to be your feet and legs and hands and arms to take healing to those who need healing and hope to those who need hope. If I am not the one to be leading this charge, please get to the replacement plan as quickly as possible and get me out of the way so that another who is more perceptive in such things as obedience can carry on the work to completion.”
Wouldn’t it just be something if we finally broke past that barrier of thinking I can’t do it because I don’t have the money? He would absolutely surprise us all and get the job done without money—or an even greater surprise—once we let loose of our old patterns and expectations of how he “ought” to answer and become comfortable with the idea that he has the freedom of creativity of doing it just any jolly old way he wants to. And then he would come back around after our addiction is healed and really, really surprise us by doing it with money as his select resource.
At any rate, I am going to quit spending my energy trying to coach my wealthy friend. I just want to stay focused on getting and keeping in the game as a player, not a coach. And I believe that one day soon that twinkle in his eye and the grin at the left corner of his mouth will break into a full-fledged grin and maybe even into a robust laugh of exuberance as he says, “Well, you finally did it. Well done, well done, my friend.”
Next Week: Early days in Nepal
© Dr. James W. Jackson
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