Jehovah Jireh is one of the Hebrew names for Yahweh that means “The Lord Will Provide.” I experienced this characteristic of God like I never had before when we received a Christmas miracle from Him last week.
Here’s the backstory: At the beginning of December, I said to Anthony, “We better check the oil to make sure we have enough in case we’re burning through a lot of it.”
“We can’t be using that much oil,” he answered.
The week before Christmas, I received revelation from God when He said, “Stop blaming things on your husband.” This is one of two direct revelations I’ve gotten in about the past month. Both revelations have been warnings to me about how to break generational curses. In this case, God was revealing to me that blaming my husband for things is a generational curse that I’m responsible for breaking.

There was nothing significant going on between Anthony and me that day, but I also understood that I could at times be, shall we say, irritable. I had regularly been blaming Anthony for forgetting to take the garbage out to the street on garbage day despite the fact that we’d never assigned roles for this task. (There’s also no reason that I can’t be the one to do it since I’m home so much since he’s the one who works full-time.)
I also frequently allowed myself to get annoyed when Anthony unloaded the dishwasher and put things in the wrong places. I was even vexed when he put the teacups in the proper cabinet, and on the proper shelf, but on the wrong side of the cabinet. GASP. Ok, even I realized immediately that day that I was being an inflexible butthead. My inner monologue went something like this: Chill the f**** out, Stacey.
So when I heard God tell me to stop blaming things on my husband, I accepted that I was overly uptight and started looking for ways to incorporate God’s feedback into my daily life. What am I supposed to do to break this generational curse?
Then came the opportunity that I didn’t want.

You know those days right before Christmas that were unseasonably cold in many parts of the U.S.? Well, they were cold in SW Virginia, where we currently reside, too. Cold as in 9 degrees with wind chills below 0 cold. Cold like I was back in NJ where I grew up cold, without all the snow.
I woke up to a 53 degree morning and figured the furnace failed during the night. I tried to start it up again. It made the sound of mechanical struggle and shut back off. I tried again. And again.
“Something’s wrong with the furnace,” I told Anthony on the phone.
“I’ll look at it after work,” he told me.
I tried to keep the door closed to retain what heat we did have. I put on another sweatshirt.
When Anthony got home, he checked the furnace. A few minutes later he came upstairs and said, “Well, the furnace is fine, but it has nothing to burn. We’re out of oil, and the oil company can’t deliver any for the next 6 days.”
I remembered what God had told me about not blaming him, but I still did. I responded with rage and blame. “I told you to check it a few weeks ago! Six days?! It’s already cold in the house and is only going to get colder!”
I continued to rage that night, unable to get warm as the temperature in the house dropped. Thankfully, Cub was fine sleeping through it. But I was angry that Anthony was sleeping through the frigid air just fine. How unfair is it that he’s sleeping just fine and I’m suffering!
God, I married Anthony because you assured me over and over again that he was the right man for me! You sent me a husband who isn’t doing his job! Do you think so little of me that you’re going to let me suffer like this? I can’t even sleep! You were supposed to give me a man to take care of me! There’s no solution to this problem. I know you do miracles, but I don’t see how you could possibly do a miracle to fix this.
Does this remind you of the Israelites complaining that manna wasn’t enough? I was sleeping in my first-world home, in no actual danger, and had the gall to complain about it.

I got a grip on myself. I found a ski hat in the closet and put it on my head. I put on a second pair of socks. I started to reason with myself.
You live in a first world country.
You have the resources to go elsewhere to stay if the cold becomes unbearable.
There are people all over the world freezing and starving to death, and you’re bitching like this because you’re uncomfortable?
Look at your son and husband sleeping comfortably through this. Maybe it’s a YOU problem.
I changed my tune with God.
God, I’m sorry that I’m acting like this. I repent of my attitude. I’m still really cold and uncomfortable, and I’m having trouble controlling my emotions, but I know my attitude sucks.
Whether it was the hat and extra socks of the prayer that changed things, I got warmer and finally fell asleep.
The next day, I knew I also had to change my tune with my husband. I called him and asked him to forgive me for blaming him. “It’s not your fault. God told me not to blame you, and I’m sorry that I did.” One of the things God has been showing me is that praying to break generational curses is good, but they also sometimes require action. In this case, I had to take the action of apologizing to my husband, not just to God.

“It’s ok,” Anthony said. “I’m working on the situation. We’ll talk later.” He wasn’t mad I’d blamed him. Why don’t I forgive people so effortlessly? I asked myself.
Good news came an hour later. Someone at Anthony’s work gave us 15 gallons of diesel fuel, free of charge. While not recommended for long-term use, you can put diesel in your oil tank in a pinch. Anthony bought another 15 gallons after work, filled the oil tank up, and we started heating the house up again as the temperature dropped to single digits.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Lord for your provision! I know this is a lot to ask, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful since you just gave us 15 free gallons of fuel, but is there any way that you could get us more oil at a lower cost? We don’t have $1,000 to fill the tank right now.”
Somehow, the fact that God gave us 15 gallons of diesel made me think he was going to do even more for us. I told Anthony, “I really think God is telling me he’s going to provide oil for us. And I think we’re somehow not going to have to pay for it.”
Later that day, our neighbor told us his friend had oil on her property. She wanted to give it to us, for free, because she no longer used oil heat. Over $1,000 worth of oil for free.

God, I’m so sorry. I am convicted. I am sorry that I doubted your ability to do a miracle in this situation. I’m sorry that I doubted your provision. I promise that I will pay this forward. I know that I can’t really repay you. How will I ever try to?
I sat for a while. I didn’t experience a direct, clear sentence this time. It was more of a slow impression. The words came across time and space, gutting me as I made sense of them.
Repay me? The Father already paid. For everything. You don’t owe anything.
I’m crying now, even as I type this. I don’t deserve this. I expected judgment. And He pours out grace and mercy.
Hallelujah, grace like rain
Falls down on me
Thank you for sharing!

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