Abraham Lincoln once said, “You cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than you earn.” This simple yet profound word of advice has never been more relevant than now. The average American today spends $1.26 for every dollar they earn and many families find themselves overwhelmed by mounting debt with no end in sight.

Like many Americans, C. Ashley Clayton and his family had a good income but often could not pay their bills. Poor choices, undefined priorities and no spending plan sabotaged their hope of financial freedom. When they made the decision to change how they handled personal finances they discovered a new sense of freedom in pursuit of their dreams, passions and values.

Confessions of a Poor Money Manager is Clayton’s personal story of how he and his family moved from financial bondage to financial freedom. It is refreshingly honest, sometimes humorous and engaging. His straight forward style and practical approach takes the edge off of the task of managing our personal resources. He manages to put a personal face on our culture of greed and entitlement and at the same time offers practical biblical principles and spending strategies that will stand the test of time.

When I was a very small boy, my family lived in Kentucky while my dad attended The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Several times a year, we traveled to South Carolina, where my grandparents lived. I can’t tell you the number of times I listened to my dad tell the story of one trip in particular.

            He always began, “It was a week before Christmas in the wee hours of the morning. We were traveling over the Smoky Mountains. We usually traveled at night because the children would sleep most of the way. I was so tired this trip I could hardly keep my eyes open. The children were asleep in the back seat. Mom was trying to stay awake so she would be sure I didn’t fall asleep.

            “We suddenly found ourselves in a violent thunderstorm that left us wrapped in a blanket of thick fog. The further into the mountains we traveled, the heavier the fog became. While we didn’t want to pull over for fear someone would hit us from behind, we couldn’t see well enough to continue forward either.

            “It was pitch dark, and except for the truck just ahead, there were no other vehicles on the narrow, winding road. Our headlights only made it worse. We couldn’t see anything. When I finally lowered my headlights, I realized I could clearly see the red taillights of the truck in front of us.

“For over two hours, I kept my eyes on those taillights and followed them through the mountains. I couldn’t see the road or the mountains around us, but I knew that truck driver had probably traveled that road a hundred times and knew its every twist, turn, and potential danger. When the fog began to lift, he pulled over at a turnout and honked his horn. I waved, and we went on our way.”