is that often you are forced to take your own. Just a few days ago I was chatting with a new mom about being able to stay home with her new baby. It can be a scary thing to lose an income and it takes some work and a lot of faith and prayer to make it work. I shared that God has always provided for us and somehow the bills get paid, though I can't always explain how. You get used to living on a shoe string and learn that life is so much more than material things.
I also said that it's only those who take steps of faith that have the really cool God stories that everyone likes to hear. If we are comfortable and self-sufficient, there isn't a whole lot of reason for God to step in. That step of faith can be scary, though, especially in the interim between the stepping out and when we see God show up. (You'll note I said when we see... God is there, in charge, working, even if we are not aware of it.) And it is in this place, the vaguely scary place where you don't know how things will work out, that I am this afternoon.
You see, the mail came. I don't know about you, but when I was younger I used to love getting mail. It was always exciting and a letter filled me with happy expectation. Now? Not so much. Real letters are few and far between and what isn't junk is usually bills. The expected ones I don't mind so much. I don't like them, but I am prepared for them. It is the unexpected official-looking envelopes which make my heart beat just a little faster and the ones I have to force myself to open rather than hiding under some papers and pretending I never saw them. (I don't recommend this practice, it just increases the stress. Trust me, I know.) Perhaps it's because I've been conditioned to expect bad news from these types of letters. And that would hold true today.
Today's letter brought a statement from the auxiliary payment program which H. is enrolled in as a supplement to our insurance. She can be enrolled in it because it is for lower income families and we more than qualify under their guidelines. I was not overly concerned with how all the early tests she had done when she first came home were going to be paid for because I knew I was enrolling her in this program. Except the statement contained a lot of zeros in it today. That would not be in relation to what I am going to owe, but to what they are paying. Zero. For many of the tests. Expensive tests. All because we happen to disagree with one another on when H. was actually enrolled in the program.
I have a call in to the supervisor and case worker to see if we can get this sorted out. I had thought based on earlier conversations that the enrollment date was previous to the tests in question, so I am hoping there has just been a simple clerical error. That would be nice. Very nice. Because otherwise we're on the hook for ~$1400. Need I mention that this isn't an amount that we have stashed away under a mattress somewhere?
So I will take my own advice and wait. Wait for the return phone call from the supervisor and wait for God to show me how it is all going to work out. And I will take many deep breaths and offer up more than a few prayers to help alleviate the growing panic I feel somewhere down around my stomach.