...and God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. 2 Corinthians 9:8
At autumn meetings, the Stewardship Team is taking time to study a book on biblical giving. These folks are reading about “the intimate connection between faith and finances, a connection that can either threaten faith or strengthen faith.”
In author Charles Lane’s words, “Jesus wants your heart.” The condition of your heart, he says, has an impact on the contents of your wallet.
Eric Engstrom mused about the practice of faithful giving: “You should tell the story of my mother. My dad would get his paycheck on Thursday. He made less than $100 a week at the meat-packing plant. Mom would cash the check on Friday. The first thing, she’d put money for the church in an envelope, and then she’d put the envelope in the cabinet. If she fell over dead before Sunday, we’d know where to find the money for the church.”
First things first — that has long been Velma Engstrom’s credo.
Recalls Eric, the oldest of Velma’s three sons, “The church was always a big part of my parents’ lives. They didn’t have much to live on. Sometimes I don’t know how they survived. But we never wanted for anything.”
Velma is a woman of numerical precision. At 92 — “and a half,” she adds squarely — Velma has always had an eye for a column of numbers. She likes things to balance — exactly. Her memory is rich in precise numbers — the $1,000 she earned working in Alaska at age 29, the 74½ cents an hour her husband Jack earned at the Morrell plant in the early 1950s.
She appreciates punctuality — five minutes late doesn’t measure up. And she believes in fulfilling promises, to the penny.
But Velma’s story is not about the numbers. It’s about faith. It’s about “living sacrificially for her family and her church,” says Eric.
Over the years, Velma found her place in Iowa Lutheran churches in Ottumwa, Estherville, Clinton, and Davenport. She served as a financial secretary, she joined women’s circles, worked with youth in Luther League. She became known as a cookie-baker extraordinaire. In the stuff of everyday life, Velma learned about faith and serving.
She remembers making a pledge in the early days. Jack didn’t make much of a wage; Velma “washed and ironed and cooked for a husband and three boys” at home. “Jack asked me, ‘Can we afford it?’ I said no, but I still think we should do it.”
What might this generation of givers learn from you, Velma? “You need to give to the church first,” she says firmly. It’s one of those biblical truths that just seems to work, she’s confident. Setting aside the first envelope of income for God has been the secret to Velma’s commitment and generosity.
These days, Velma is losing her vision. But she takes joy in the eastern sun that comes streaming into her Luther Crest apartment. “It’s the first time I’ve had a bedroom to the east,” she says cheerfully. She listens to her beloved Cubs on the radio. Son Ron comes every week to read the mail to her — letters from old friends, stories in the church newsletter.
“God loves a cheerful giver,” we read in scripture. Even in advancing age, Velma retains a cheerful outlook. And perhaps that’s because she strives to make her columns balance, to put first things first for God. That’s precisely where Velma’s heart has always been.
"May God, who lightens our paths, accompany you on your journey this day and always." ~Worship blessing