Here is a poem I wanted to share with you. It’s written by my oldest daughter, Julia. I believe this has a message of encouragement for you today.
Poverty and Inheritance
Once, I thought poverty would be the end of me.
But I found it to be only the beginning.
The laying down, of all my safeties,
my certainties, and my contingencies
in exchange for my freedom–
To walk, naked and barefoot,
under the heavens, the clouds, and the rain.
So I shed the itchy layers of social graces,
and the stiff-collared jacket of living to please men.
I let slip from my clenched fingers
the wadded currency of good deeds,
and un-shouldered the heavy load
of being good, and being right, and knowing the answer.
I abandoned my ivory tower and turned in the keys,
and let my feet rest on the dusty earth,
my ceiling, the open heavens above me.
And for the first time in my life,
I felt my breath–
breath I did not ask for,
breath I did not make, or earn,
breath I cannot keep, nor borrow,
breath that is not mine,
yet fills my lungs,
wave, upon wave, upon wave.
And as I knelt, planted in the ruddy, barren soil,
bare, and empty handed,
I became the richest man on earth.
For it was in my losing, in my poverty,
that I found my inheritance.
And my inheritance was life,
and life to the fullest.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)