Living overseas can be expensive. Even in a relatively affordable country such as Latvia, it's easy to see significant chunks of your income disappear down a drain towards shipping, customs, postage, fees, bank charges, etc., if you're not careful.
Just getting access to your money can become an expensive proposition. There's many ways to transfer money internationally, but most options are either (a) very expensive, (b) very lengthy, or (c) both. However, I've discovered one method that is, beautifully, none of the above.
My U.S. bank account has a special program for international travelers which has very low transaction fees for purchases or withdrawals you make with your debit card anywhere in the world. It's still a small expense, but considering most banks will charge you a significant percentage of every transaction - and also tack on some usage fees just for fun - it's incredibly minimal.¹
So, when I want to transfer money to my Latvian bank, I simply make a withdrawal from my U.S. bank account using an ATM here in Latvia, and then re-deposit the cash here.
Here's the really odd part: Oftentimes, I use the exact same machine for both transactions. So all I'm doing is, in one sense, withdrawing money from an ATM... and then putting it right back. And like magic, money moves from a U.S. bank to a Latvian bank for negligible cost and almost zero time or hassle.²
I always feel kind of suspiciously guilty when I do this. Sometimes I even purposefully withdraw cash from a different machine than I deposit it into, just so it looks less bizarre.³
A couple of years ago, I was in a very tight spot financially. I was raising support to move overseas, and wasn't yet drawing a salary, so I was basically trying to live on nothing (or as close to it as possible).⁴
And then, since this is the way life usually works, my computer died.
Now, you could argue that a computer is a luxury, not a necessity, and that the mere fact that I owned one showed that I clearly wasn't as bad off as I might have thought I was. All of which is very true. But for what I was trying to do at the time, it was a very integral part of my efforts to communicate with people and inform them about this new direction my life had taken. So this was a particularly crushing blow to what I hoped to accomplish, how I hoped to do it, and more than that, to my ego. I was faced with the fact that I didn't have what I needed, and had no way of attaining it.
And then, since this is the way God usually works, someone bought me a new computer.
A really nice one, too. which is still going strong - I'm typing on it right now - and which has been a blessing on every level imaginable. In fact, it was far nicer than the computer it replaced, and never would have even entered into the decision making process of what model I would choose to replace the not-so-dear departed computer.
This was an overwhelming event to process. So, as I usually do when overwhelmed, I went out for a long nighttime walk. I was by the ocean, looking out across the width of a large bay, and seeing the twinkle of countless stars mirrored by the lights from an endless string of houses lining the shore. And as I walked and thought, and was silent and listened for an explanation of what had just happened, it was if I heard the words being spoken to me,
"All that you see is Mine."
The concept wasn't new - the idea that everything belonged to God is something that had been drummed into my consciousness from an early age - but the depth and awareness of it suddenly jumped to the surface of my consciousness in a way it never had before. Stars, homes, sea and sky, waves and double-wide trailers, all I could see, all was his. Overwhelming, empowering, exhilarating. All belonged to him, was from him, and of course he could easily provide me with a new computer. Chump change for the one who owns all.
And then,
"All that is Mine is yours."
Jaw drops. Chest tightens, breath shortens, dampness at the corner of the eyes that isn't entirely due to the salt air. New awareness of the depth of my place and privilege in this world, overwhelming gratitude mixed with a convicting sense of responsibility and care for all that is entrusted to me.
So now, when I'm juggling wads of cash an trying not to look either suspicious or like an easy target at an ATM on the street in Riga, I try and remind myself of those words as I have the cold hard cash in my hot little hands:
"All that you see is Mine,
all that is Mine is yours."
If properly remembered, this keeps me humble, and it keeps me honest. I own nothing, and yet have been given all. So whatever is placed in my hands, I want to use well for as long as it's there, honoring the owner, until he sees fit to return it to his safekeeping or pass it along to someone else.
Sometimes you're given something to hold for a lifetime,
and sometimes for 30 seconds in front of an ATM on a busy street.
Regardless, I hope to keep those words at the front of my memory, my consciousness, my heart:
All that I see is His;
All that is His is mine.
¹Insert unsolicited plug for ECCU (www.eccu.org) here. They've been a great bank to work with- highly recommend for anyone living/working in some kind of overseas ministry capacity!
²There are some drawbacks to this method, such as the inability to transfer large sums of money and the small risk that you'll get mugged in the 30-second interval between withdrawing and re-depositing your cash
³"Wait, did that guy just get money out from the ATM and PUT IT BACK AGAIN?!? Was something wrong with the money? Is something wrong with him?"
⁴Which was only possible thanks to mom and dad generously letting me move back home for a while. Thanks guys!
Just getting access to your money can become an expensive proposition. There's many ways to transfer money internationally, but most options are either (a) very expensive, (b) very lengthy, or (c) both. However, I've discovered one method that is, beautifully, none of the above.
My U.S. bank account has a special program for international travelers which has very low transaction fees for purchases or withdrawals you make with your debit card anywhere in the world. It's still a small expense, but considering most banks will charge you a significant percentage of every transaction - and also tack on some usage fees just for fun - it's incredibly minimal.¹
So, when I want to transfer money to my Latvian bank, I simply make a withdrawal from my U.S. bank account using an ATM here in Latvia, and then re-deposit the cash here.
Here's the really odd part: Oftentimes, I use the exact same machine for both transactions. So all I'm doing is, in one sense, withdrawing money from an ATM... and then putting it right back. And like magic, money moves from a U.S. bank to a Latvian bank for negligible cost and almost zero time or hassle.²
I always feel kind of suspiciously guilty when I do this. Sometimes I even purposefully withdraw cash from a different machine than I deposit it into, just so it looks less bizarre.³
A couple of years ago, I was in a very tight spot financially. I was raising support to move overseas, and wasn't yet drawing a salary, so I was basically trying to live on nothing (or as close to it as possible).⁴
And then, since this is the way life usually works, my computer died.
Now, you could argue that a computer is a luxury, not a necessity, and that the mere fact that I owned one showed that I clearly wasn't as bad off as I might have thought I was. All of which is very true. But for what I was trying to do at the time, it was a very integral part of my efforts to communicate with people and inform them about this new direction my life had taken. So this was a particularly crushing blow to what I hoped to accomplish, how I hoped to do it, and more than that, to my ego. I was faced with the fact that I didn't have what I needed, and had no way of attaining it.
And then, since this is the way God usually works, someone bought me a new computer.
A really nice one, too. which is still going strong - I'm typing on it right now - and which has been a blessing on every level imaginable. In fact, it was far nicer than the computer it replaced, and never would have even entered into the decision making process of what model I would choose to replace the not-so-dear departed computer.
This was an overwhelming event to process. So, as I usually do when overwhelmed, I went out for a long nighttime walk. I was by the ocean, looking out across the width of a large bay, and seeing the twinkle of countless stars mirrored by the lights from an endless string of houses lining the shore. And as I walked and thought, and was silent and listened for an explanation of what had just happened, it was if I heard the words being spoken to me,
"All that you see is Mine."
The concept wasn't new - the idea that everything belonged to God is something that had been drummed into my consciousness from an early age - but the depth and awareness of it suddenly jumped to the surface of my consciousness in a way it never had before. Stars, homes, sea and sky, waves and double-wide trailers, all I could see, all was his. Overwhelming, empowering, exhilarating. All belonged to him, was from him, and of course he could easily provide me with a new computer. Chump change for the one who owns all.
And then,
"All that is Mine is yours."
Jaw drops. Chest tightens, breath shortens, dampness at the corner of the eyes that isn't entirely due to the salt air. New awareness of the depth of my place and privilege in this world, overwhelming gratitude mixed with a convicting sense of responsibility and care for all that is entrusted to me.
So now, when I'm juggling wads of cash an trying not to look either suspicious or like an easy target at an ATM on the street in Riga, I try and remind myself of those words as I have the cold hard cash in my hot little hands:
"All that you see is Mine,
all that is Mine is yours."
If properly remembered, this keeps me humble, and it keeps me honest. I own nothing, and yet have been given all. So whatever is placed in my hands, I want to use well for as long as it's there, honoring the owner, until he sees fit to return it to his safekeeping or pass it along to someone else.
Sometimes you're given something to hold for a lifetime,
and sometimes for 30 seconds in front of an ATM on a busy street.
Regardless, I hope to keep those words at the front of my memory, my consciousness, my heart:
All that I see is His;
All that is His is mine.
¹Insert unsolicited plug for ECCU (www.eccu.org) here. They've been a great bank to work with- highly recommend for anyone living/working in some kind of overseas ministry capacity!
²There are some drawbacks to this method, such as the inability to transfer large sums of money and the small risk that you'll get mugged in the 30-second interval between withdrawing and re-depositing your cash
³"Wait, did that guy just get money out from the ATM and PUT IT BACK AGAIN?!? Was something wrong with the money? Is something wrong with him?"
⁴Which was only possible thanks to mom and dad generously letting me move back home for a while. Thanks guys!