This is a long post - but I've spent a week debating whether or not to share it, and It is something that I feel strongly about...
This is Debt Awareness Week. This past year has wreaked havoc with the financial plans of thousands of families across our nation. Business have folded, people have been furloughed, lost jobs, had reduced hours and paycuts, others had to stop work because of contracting covid19 …it’s been really tough [conversely others have made vast sums of money through “greed and capitalism” – the rich get rich and the poor get poorer, as the old song goes] My immediate family have been ok, but I know others who have struggled.
A decade or so ago, on the Friday one week before Easter, I went upstairs to switch off my PC before going to bed. An email pinged in the inbox. I stopped and read it [despite telling myself ‘this can probably wait till morning’] It basically said
“You don’t know me, but I read your blog everyday. My life is a mess, I am in debt, my rent is overdue, I cannot pay the bills. I’m a carer for my disabled spouse. My only child lives on the other side of the world, and she is pregnant – she doesn’t know my situation. I can’t go on. I’ve put my affairs in order, and packed all my clothes for the Charity Shop. On Good Friday, I plan to take my life. I know that then my husband will be properly looked after by Social Services. I know that you are a Christian – so I am asking you to pray that God will forgive me for this. Thank you”
I called Bob – “I’ve got to help. Perhaps I could go and see her?” He wisely suggested I found out where she was. I sent a brief reply, saying I would pray, begging her to reconsider [how will your daughter explain to her child that her Grandma chose to die before she was born?] and asking her where she lived, and promising I would do all I could to help. The reply came back instantly simply naming a city hundreds of miles from Leicester.
I prayed, I shared the briefest of details with church friends, they prayed. Good Friday came, and went... and I prayed, and wept…and I heard nothing. Then three weeks later – another email
“Sorry for the delay- my internet was cut off. A friend is letting me send this from her computer. I went to the debt people. They’ve sorted things out with my landlady, and helped me get everything back on track. Things will be OK now. Thank you so much. This has saved my life”
That was so wonderful to read. Then a few years later, a second email out of the blue. The lady told me she and her spouse had been moved into an adapted wheelchair friendly bungalow. People had helped furnish it, and others were tending the garden and growing vegetables for them. She thanked me again for my help and my prayers. I've heard no more since.
I was just a small link in the chain that pulled her out of the quagmire of debt. I think of that lady every year when it gets to Holy Week.
Don’t be afraid to ask for help – and don’t be afraid to offer help. Don’t let debt be a death sentence.
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