Back in early 2001 times were tough. This particular day spirits were exceptionally low. I had a crappy job, I was depressed, it was Monday and I couldn’t even find my Bible.

My wife and I were financially strapped. I was earning very little and the stress was taking its toll. Despite my situation, I was a tither to the core. Come hell or high-water that 10% found its way into the offering basket. The magic 10%, my church believed in it, my pastor preached it and I put it into practice. I also went the occasional extra mile with my open-hearted gifts to missions. I won’t even take blogging space to mention my generous gift of $200 that I made to faith harvest that year.

Due to lack of finances I couldn’t afford to take my wife out and my 2 credit cards were maxed out. Something had to be done. So on that life-changing Monday after years of faithful tithing I abandoned all good conscience and took the plunge. We decided to lower our monthly giving to the church down to a measly 3%. That’s right folks, a whopping 3%. That’s a full 7 less than 10.

Finally the fateful Sunday arrived. I walked through the doors to the sanctuary with my head held low; feeling the kind of shame only a non-tither could feel. With fear and trembling I dropped the check into the offering bucket and tried not listen to the passionate requests from the pulpit for more money. I was well steeped in the doctrine of tithe, and was well aware of the consequences of forsaking such important New Testament…uuuh I mean Old Testament teaching. Here’s mine and yours favorite Bible verse:

“Mal 3:8 "Will a man rob God? Yet you have robbed Me! But you say, ‘In what way have we robbed You?’ In tithes and offerings. 9 *You are cursed with a curse…*”

And boy did I ever know this teaching. You better obey this one or you will have robbed God and unfortunately find yourself under Malachi’s curse. It was well known to all that this sneaky curse had leaped the pages of the Old Testament, made its way right passed Christ, the cross, the new covenant and found itself a staple teaching in the American Mega-Church. Damn curse, it’s unstoppable!

And so I awaited my punishment. For a month I slept with one eye open. I knew it was coming, I just didn’t know when and how. I waited and waited . . .and waited.

About a month later at about 3am my wife and I lay peacefully asleep in bed. Suddenly an intensely loud crash filled the air. I sat straight up in bed, eyes wide open, convinced that judgment had finally caught up with me. THE CURSE OF MALACHI WAS UPON ME AND MY HOUSEHOLD . . . AAAAAAAAAARGH!!

But, my fellow bloggers do not be afraid, neither be thou dismayed, it turned out to be a false alarm. Some intoxicated driver had lost control of his car and ended up hitting the side of our apartment. No one was hurt.

In time, despite the occasional nightmare of God showing up demanding back payment plus interest, I felt pretty good. I got a better job and paid down the credit card debt. These days I even give pretty darn close to 10%.

Not sure what this story really proves, but it is interesting to note that the only change that giving only 3% had on me was that I had 7% more to spend on bills. Funny how that works.

Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Finally Home. Initially you might be wondering how it could be that I was given this peculiar name. Indulge me for one moment, and let me take you back to the autumn of 2001. It was a crisp night but I was warming myself in City Business’s gym. That is about all I was accomplishing as City Christian’s Basketball team was, yet again, getting blown out and there was nothing of value to be seen except the unusually long comb over the head coach was sporting. Deciding I would warm my belly as well, I began to walk toward the run down, ecoli infested, chicken shack, of a concessions stand. Passing many a stuck up nose and a couple of gap commercials I was caught by an arm on my sleeve. Lo and behold, it was City Business’s finest. "Well, well, well", said his voice. How are you? Now let me pause here for a second. Everyone who has been asked this question knows it is only a formality, it is not a sincere inquiry to the state of one’s health, but I found this to be remarkably true in this case. “I’m fine” I said. And then it happened. The conversation that was about to unfold and would later give me my name. His eyes looking passed me, as if a potential tither was behind me; he said “When are you coming home?” For those of you who don’t know it had been about a year since I had left the Business and was very much enjoying my new church. What does one say to such an inquiry? I had nothing. I am not the world’s most confrontational person so, much like Mary, I pondered all of these things in my heart waiting for just the right time to vent.

That time has indeed arrived. I have many thought I would like to share with you, but I felt a little history would help explain.

So there you have it, my history; the sad state of affairs that have led me down the path of bitterness. In all reality I am not bitter at all but find that this blog eats up a lot of hours at work so here I am.

I’m Finally Home.