Commentary

Through hard times, a family finds strength in faith

By Belinda Burkitt

How have the economic difficulties we've experienced transformed our family? I asked Noah and Nelly, our two youngest children, if they think our family has changed since Dad lost his job. Noah, 15, says he thinks so, but doesn't know how. Nelly, 13, thinks she and Noah don't fight as much and she pays more attention to how much things cost. And she tries not to ask for too much.

I have to agree with Noah. Not a lot has changed.

Our family has never been rich. We have six children between the ages of 13 and 24. (Chad, Libby, Claire, Jane, Noah, and Nelly.) I've been a stay-at-home mom --- or, as I like to call it, a career mom -- most of my life.

We have never been upwardly mobile. Money being scarce is normal for us. Our furniture has either been given to us or found at the Goodwill or on a curb with a "free" sign taped to it. Our kids have grown up wearing a lot of hand-me-downs. We've tended to cook from scratch. We eat out at a sit-down restaurant about once a year.

We value our relationships with each other and our friends. My husband Chip and I have attended church all our lives. We've taken our faith seriously -- wanting to live out what we believe is true, without being too weird. But having a family of eight automatically puts us in the "weird" category.

We'd been through rough financial times when Chip was in grad school and I was having babies. Then again when he left a job he hated to start an independent consulting business: five years of living on the edge of disaster. I began to work outside the home for the first time.

We experienced bankruptcy and received way too much financial help from family members -- one of my biggest regrets. For a while, I was working at our church, cleaning homes, and working at Best Buy selling appliances. I was exhausted. And I felt like God didn't care. I still believed in Him. But I didn't like Him.

When we were emotionally depleted, on the brink of selling our home and moving in with my parents in Seattle, Chip got a great job at a software company. It was a perfect fit. He traveled a lot and earned all sorts of hotel and airline points that we all enjoyed. He was good at his job. He received bonuses and much-needed affirmation from customers, peers and supervisors.

Our family was mending. It felt good to have a regular income and health insurance, and to no longer qualify for free or reduced school lunches. Through all of this we gave thanks, knowing it was God's blessing.

After Chip had worked there for three years, in April 2009 the company reorganized. And like George Clooney said in the movie, "Up in the Air," Chip's job was "no longer available." Chip was 54 and it felt like a death sentence (but then, I wouldn't know what that feels like). He received the news over the phone on Monday evening. On Tuesday morning his severance package arrived via FedEx. It was over.

There was no one to argue with but God. "Why did this happen? How could you do this?" For me, the question wasn't whether God existed, because I was already convinced of that. My question was more personal -- just between me and God. I wondered if he cared. I had a sneaking suspicion that I was on his list of ordinary people -- not bad, not really good. Just ordinary and expendable.

Since then, I have grown convinced God loves me dearly, whether I'm good, bad or ordinary. I'm also convinced that when tough things in life happen they are meant to grow and mature me -- not to punish me. That adjustment in my belief system has made a huge difference in my relationship with God, my family and friends.

I have seen God's love expressed through the kindness and generosity of friends. We've received gifts of money, groceries, gas cards, prom shoes, graduation photos, theater tickets, a full body massage, kind words of compassion and encouragement, and countless job leads. I have always loved the people of our church. I appreciate them now more than ever. Through these past nine months they have been a lifeline. I don't know if we could have made it without them.

We found an envelope of money slipped under our front door. Just for fun, a close friend left a Rainbow gift card in our freezer. Just knowing they care gives me a tremendous amount of hope. We have a sense of being watched over. Many of them pray for us on a regular basis.

Chip and I have prayed together and read the Bible almost every morning for about two years. So when he lost his job we had even more time in the morning to pray. Not just out of discipline, but out of necessity. We pray for everything that worries us. The house payment, school activity fees, shoes, Christmas presents, the energy bill, our son in Afghanistan, our health, car repairs, and of course a job. We pray for other people who are looking for work as well. It helps to pray out loud, and it really helps to pray for other people.

We've seen many answers to prayer. We invite our kids to join us when they're around. But we don't make them pray with us. Our time together in the morning has become my favorite part of the day.

Even on unemployment, we've managed to pay down our credit cards and stay somewhat current on our house payment. We consider this a miracle.

Chip volunteers at the Neighborhood House on the West Side once a week. He teaches math to students preparing to take the GED test. It's his favorite day of the week. He's wanted to do something like this for a long time. He decided go for it, yes, because he has time, but also because he wants to give something back to the society that has been helping us so much. Taxpayers' money is making it possible for Chip to go to school, our kids to receive free lunches and (when it comes through) our medical assistance. He wanted to say thank you somehow. He loves teaching math and he enjoys helping his students move forward in their lives.

I want to leave you with some words attributed to Jesus that help our family stay calm when life without a job is so scary that it's hard to breathe:

"Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, what you will drink ... or what you will wear ... Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store in barns, yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"

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Belinda Burkitt of St. Paul is a career mom.