My slender fingers slipped into her bag during lunch.
I knew exactly where she kept it. I'd watched her a thousand times before I ever contemplated
stealing from her.
The $20 note felt heavy in my hand. Heavier than paper should feel.
I bought the Sour Pop sweet I'd wanted for weeks. The one I couldn't ask my mom for because we couldn't afford it. Because I didn't want to stress her
out.
Later, when my classmate discovered her loss and cried out, I sat silent. The evidence sat in my stomach where no one could find it.
That's my earliest memory of being "the strong one" who didn't rely on others to make things
happen.
It's also the first time my pursuit of money caused me to abandon myself and dishonor someone else.
It wasn't the last.
For decades,
I believed having a lot of money was the only way to prove I was successful. The only way to avoid going back to poverty.
Then God closed the door on my ability to earn significantly. For an entire year.
What He taught me about provision, enoughness, and where
I'd actually placed my trust and got my strength from will wreck you.
