It’s All in the Perspective

When my husband Randy lost his job and career as an air traffic controller almost 20 years ago, we were suddenly thrust into a new world. Where we once had enough money, not only for the basics, but for extras, too, we now found ourselves in a position we hadn’t known in a long time: how to get along on very little.

I look back and cringe when I see the many mistakes we made with managing our money. Until Randy found another job, we lived on his retirement savings. Fear of the financial unknown dictated some poor choices. We attended a job fair and fell for a smooth-talking entrepreneur’s pitch that investing in pay telephones was certain to be lucrative. How could we have known that cell phones were already making pay phones nearly obsolete? It sounded so good. Once you paid for the phones (gulp…a mere $10,000 investment), you had to place them in strategic locations. Then they told us all the money plugged into them was gravy. What could be easier?

Painful Lessons

Now I look back with 20/20 hindsight, barely able to believe we fell for that scam. The business was legitimate, but they neglected to tell us some critical information:

1. It would be next-to- impossible to find places that wanted payphones.

2. The monthly phone bill to support 8-10 phones was astronomical.

3. Forget making any money!

A friend and financial adviser helped us make the decision a few months into this venture, to bite the bullet, get out and never look back. We finally managed to recoup about $1,000 when we found a buyer for the phones. Ouch!

I wish I could say this was our only bad financial decision. Again, fear played a part in investing our dwindling “nest egg” in a company that had rave reviews for its high returns. I should have listened to my dad who wisely said, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.” We had our savings in a traditional investment that wasn’t performing as well as this other company. The carrot dangled in front of us–and we bit into it, swallowing the whole thing.

At first, all the numbers looked great. Monthly reports were impressive. Randy and I often sat with a calculator crunching numbers. Wow! This is amazing, we’d tell ourselves, a little too smugly. After several years, we convinced Randy’s dad who was a savvy investor and a good friend of mine to invest her 401K savings in this fund.

Then one day our friend who had referred us to this company called in shock. “It’s all a scam,” he said evenly. “The largest Ponzi scheme in history.” At least we had that distinction until Bernie Madoff came along.

How could we be so stupid? We kicked ourselves for a long time–and felt terrible that we had influenced others to join and lose their hard-earned savings as well.

We have learned from these painful lessons, these situations we wouldn’t have knowingly signed on for. Yet what we have gained is valuable. We’ve been forced to face the difficult reality of how we have handled money.

Starting Over

When Randy had a generous income, we spent most of it. There was always something new we wanted. And when we got that item, something else appeared on the list of “must-haves.” I perused catalogs for the latest home decor or new clothes. We ate out at restaurants frequently and didn’t think anything of taking weekend jaunts and charging everything on our credit cards, which frequently crept toward the maximum allowed.

We were always looking for something to fill the gaps, to make us content. Who would think it would take losing almost everything for us to learn what real contentment is about?

In this more simple way of living, when you only have enough for your needs, (not your “greeds” as one wise author once said), we have discovered freedom. Now I wonder why I thought I needed all the stuff that eventually makes its way to the rummage room?

In God’s economy, He uses these tough circumstances to help us grow; to be wiser stewards of what He has given us and more compassionate in caring for others less fortunate. Without these financial setbacks, I might not have acquired a change in perspective. I have learned that God is our provider. All that we have ultimately belongs to Him. Our security isn’t found in jobs or bank accounts–a timely truth as we face an uncertain economy.

Best of all, Randy and I can offer each other grace for the mistakes we’ve made and gratitude for the richest blessings in life that money can’t buy.