Tithing

Tithing

A leaf in the back of my first childhood diary records my tithing of my allowance. It was simple arithmetic: A dollar earned meant a dime was put into the offering plate at church. I’ve been tithing ever since.

In college one of my classmates—an economics major who went on to become a market analyst–told me a nifty way to record the charges on my newly-acquired gas-station credit card: Write down each transaction in my checkbook register, like a check, and deduct the amount from the balance. Then when I got my credit card statement I’d have the exact amount in my checking account to pay it off in full and on time.

I have rarely paid interest on a credit card. The only long-term debts I have undertaken were two student loans (my parents repaid the one for college, and I repaid the one for graduate school) and two consecutive home mortgages (the first one came with a divorce, and the second one came with a marriage).

I once borrowed against one of my retirement accounts to pay off debts incurred by the person who I refer to as “my legal affair”—Myleaf, for short. I paid back the loan promptly, and Myleaf paid me back over time, with interest, finishing off with a check signed by a third party. The repayment schedule was for longer than the relationship. Bottom line: I realized my net worth as distinct from my self-worth, and after forgiving both sets of debts I was left with my self-worth as well as my net worth intact.

Money, for me, has never been an issue; it’s been a substance. Like starter dough, ten percent off the top is given to the church and charitable organizations. Which frees me to live with plenty.