Let me first start this post by saying a few have said that I tell too much of my business. Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m a journalist by design and telling is in my blood. I never mean to embarrass, and hope that nothing I write does, but I’ve just lived through TOO much to be silent about my life, especially if it can help me or help someone else…so here it goes.

Times have been “interesting” financially. I’ve not felt a financial pinch like this since I ran up a charge card at Casual Corner trying to wear new clothes almost everyday when I was a news anchor wayyyyyy back in the 90s. Good sense has long since taken over since then, and this time, I can humbly say that my financial bind is due to many external factors which, as a single divorcee are simply out of my control.  Thankfully, I know they are not only out of my control (or anyone else’s for that matter), but I know they are in the hands of the One in control, and soon to be dealt with like a deck of cards on a hot night with bright lights in Vegas. So, since I know God’s just using this time as another time to add more to my resume for Him I may feel a drip of perspiration, but I’m refuse to sweat it. 

Don’t get me wrong though. I am content with where I am even as I daily desire better, but let’s just say I’ve had to pray, polish off and perfect budgeting, balancing, hustling (in a good way) and restructuring as never before. 

 Anywho, one day I was on the verge of “going there” about all the things I didn’t have that I thought I should have, or should not have to contend with by now. I was looking through some items in my closet rearranging my wide array of $7.99, $10.99 and big-ticket item $19.99 Ross Dress for Less dresses for the umpteenth time. I looked in a storage container which houses my handbags. Hidden beneath color-coordinated purses of all shapes and textures I found a Gucci! Yep, you read correctly.

I found a Gucci, but not just any Gucci. I found the Gucci my parents drove all the way to Atlanta, Georgia to the official Gucci store in Phipps Plaza to purchase for me for my 33 birthday! (I’m now 42.) I even looked behind my sweat pants (which I rarely wear) and found the dusty box and bag which housed this marvelous accessory. This Gucci might as well be considered vintage, couture, straight from the hands of a little, sweet Italian craftsman because of the special memories it holds and the even more special message it gave me.

As I displayed my “re-gifted back to me” arm piece at a recent family dinner the look of pride on my mother’s face as she recanted the tale of my father and she going to get this precious pocketbook made me smile. It wasn’t because of the name brand that came along with it, or the price tag either. It was because 33 was at the beginning stages of the toughest 10 years of my life. In fact, 33 was the year that lead to several other tough years of physical and personal challenges, ALL of which I made it out of. And just like that Gucci, which looks so good on my arm and has only a tiny speck of something sparkly on the bottom right corner, some nine years later we both are doing fine.

So back to my money matters. Finding that Gucci reminded me that everything I need I already have. Some things may be on the way and some might have been tucked away but what I need is near. I just have to look for it and recognize it as a gift. I get it now thanks to GG the Gucci ( I feel she deserves a name after all these years.) I realize that just like all the Lord brought me out of at 33, 34, 35, 36, 37 and so on, He can do the same now with some extra special little surprises and reminders on the way.  

@AngelaMMoore316