by Peter Warski
Earlier this year, I was riding home with a friend. We were returning from dinner at Zeek’s Pizza, which had provided me with some leftovers I was planning to enjoy for lunch the next day.
Sometimes, God speaks softly, and at other times, He punches you in the gut. On this particular evening, He chose the latter form of communication.
We pulled up to a red light. As I thought about how tasty the pizza had been, a man came alongside our car, holding a sign: “Hungry. In need of food. God bless.”
At the bottom of the sign was a drawing of a pizza.
The box of Zeek’s in my hands suddenly felt heavy. It became instantly clear what I should have done. The man wasn’t asking for anything questionable. He was asking for something to eat.
As my friend rummaged for her purse, my mind raced. I should give out of my abundance — but then what will I eat for lunch? Before I could complete my thoughts, the light turned green, we were off, and I hadn’t moved an inch.
When I got home — pizza box still in hand — the pangs of guilt swept over me. Was I really that greedy? So greedy that I wouldn’t give up cold pizza slices just because I’d have to find a different lunch? Guilt soon led to self-condemnation. Self-condemnation convinced me that I simply needed to pray.
As I did, I was reminded of a few points. First, when it’s clear that God is calling us to do something — whether it be as mundane as giving away your leftovers, or as monumental as moving to the other side of the world — we should be obedient. We should not rely on our own reasoning. Doing so inevitably leads to us putting our own interests and desires ahead of our biblical mandate to love and serve others. I’ve learned that the hard way.
Secondly, we need to remember that God’s grace is always sufficient: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:17). The guilt and self-condemnation I experienced was not from God — but the scenario that led to it was. He wants us to be reminded of the responsibility we have as His followers. But He wants us to carry out that responsibility with joy and humility, not guilt or reluctant obligation. That’s why He gave us the greatest gift of all — one that eternally frees us from those latter negative emotions so that we can be a light in a dark world.
This is what the Spilling Hope campaign is all about. As we come upon Celebration Sunday, I encourage everyone to keep this message in mind — and accordingly, to give with humility, joy, generosity, and obedience to God. By remembering Christ’s sacrifice, and by following His example, we truly begin to reflect His nature in the midst of a broken world.
by Cherith Brooks
Living in a pretty big city in America (Seattle) places me in the center of commerce. As I walk downtown, I move past stores with giant pictures of models in bizarre poses, lights beaming off of the facets of gems placed on black mats to emphasize their glamour, and people sitting on the corners of streets with cardboard signs. I find myself right in the middle of these two different worlds. Should I continue to gaze upon items that make me feel as if I do not have enough, or should I pay attention to those who show me that I definitely could survive with much less? Spilling Hope has taught me to reconsider my beliefs about what I actually need.
While Spilling Hope has been going on, I have been cutting back on spontaneous snack purchases. Since I am already a cautious spender, I had to think of some way that I could noticeably live more simply. When I thought, “Maybe I’ll get a coffee,” I would think about if I really needed it, and then would acknowledge that I could make my own drink at home. Hearing about how little financial resources people in different countries have to live on astonishes me. One spontaneous snack purchase of mine could go a lot further somewhere else. Participating in Spilling Hope has made me grateful, and has inspired me to know that change can be made. The people that receive the wells from Spilling Hope also inspire me to be more joyful about God’s blessings and provision, which is plentiful.
Matthew 6:19-20 is a good reminder: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.” Instead of gaining satisfaction and worth from material ownership, it is more rewarding to participate in community and honest work. Many of us find that when we get the item that we have wanted, we are content for a short time before thinking of something else to want. Since there is this constant gap between where we want to be and where we are, there is room for dissatisfaction. This scripture reminds us that spiritual wealth is the most significant wealth. I do believe that spiritual fulfillment through living in an active relationship with God is the only way to reach satisfaction.
by Susie
So today’s topic is simplify.
I’m going to be honest: I’ve been struggling to write this for a good week now. My original plan was to have something much more thoughtful, exploring simplification through its cultural implications and then planning out how to apply it to my own life. With an air of hopeful optimism, it’d be an encouraging and self-gratifying way of exploring the subject. But it wouldn’t be honest.
Just in running my errands today, I’ve thought of at least twenty things I wanted and legitimately considered purchasing. So I’m scrapping the original plan and am just going to say that truthfully, I really struggle with the idea of simplifying. I’m not happy to admit it, but it’s who I am. We live in a material world and I, unfortunately, am a guilty material girl.
I’ve been on multiple mission trips around the U.S. and Mexico, witnessing poverty in our own backyard, but it doesn’t make me stop wanting those needless things. The experiences had put things into perspective for a time . . . but it never made the desire for material gratification go away indefinitely. The clothes, the tickets, the technology, the shoes — all this just makes me aware of how little I earn and how my life would be so much better if I had that more disposable income.
Not to say that I have much disposable income now. Being in my mid twenties and hired on to a large corporation by contract . . . I’m often made aware of how low I am on the professional totem pole. But I’ve realized that it isn’t necessarily my habits of self-control that are limiting my spending habits. It’s my income. Or lack thereof.
I’ve definitely matured enough to understand that material things don’t provide real or lasting satisfaction. Yet I still yearn for them. Why is this? It’s much deeper than simply “keeping up with the Jones’s” — at least in my life. There’s no one I feel I have to compete with. And yet it’s not on the deepest level of self-worth: I don’t feel as though my worth is in any way tied to these things. Put simply, I want them because I want them. So how do you control that? And when does it get to a point where you don’t feel like you have to deeply consider every purchase?
These are questions I know I can’t answer now and certainly not within 500 words. So I’ll just say what I know: When I focus on the things that matter — family, friends, community, loving those around me and being in relation with Christ — the material wants and financial woes simply melt away. I realize these internal struggles are signs of something bigger going on inside of me; like Richard Dahlstrom said: “ . . . downstream problem, upstream solution.” I pray that God will give me the insight to see the heart of the issue and the strength, humility, and grace to address it.
There are so many who live on so little. Being a people with so much, why is it that we are so dissatisfied? Why is it so difficult to simplify? I’m not sure if you’re able to connect with my experience, but I pray that this time of simplifying will help you discover more about what your struggle is and what living simply looks like in your life.
by Richard Dahlstrom, Bethany Community Church
If you’re reading these words, you’re likely among the top 10% of wealthiest people in the world. You’re probably not spending much time thinking about how you’ll get water to drink, or whether you’ll have a place of shelter tonight. Though it may come at steep price (depending on where you live), you have access to health care, and food, and more than one pair of shoes. We are, in other words, blessed.
This kind of wealth creates choices, and the wealthier you are, the more choices you have. Live here or there? Marry or stay single? Stay in this relationship or leave? Change jobs? Change majors? Upgrade to an iPad 2, or keep the old one? Buy that new thing or not? Go to that concert or stay home? Go skiing or sailing? Premium cable or basic? 54″ flat screen or only that meager 32″ one? Buy organic or cheaper? . . . Depending on your wealth, and where you live, these choices just keep multiplying. Toss in exposure to thousands of ads saying “see me,” “touch me,” “taste me,” “buy me and be happy,” and the options increase even more.
“Which shoes will make me happiest?”
“Which apple tastes best?”
“Where should I go on vacation?”
For all this wealth, you’d think we’d be content, but the fact is that our habits reveal that we think we don’t have enough. We spend more than we earn. Our nation does the same thing, insanely so. Collectively, we believe that we need more than we have, believe that one more vacation, or one more bomber jet, or one more whatever, will finally make us happy, or secure, or able to stand on the moral high ground.
Though it’s not really news, you’ll forgive me for putting it this way: NEWSFLASH — It’s all a lie!
The exponential explosion in both choices and spending over the past several decades has created a situation analogous to climbing without a rope. We’re higher off the ground, but our elevation, while creating a false sense of superiority over those below, hasn’t eased our anxiety, but multiplied it. We’re afraid of losing: our stuff, our choices, our freedom to travel, our freedom to consume far more than our share of energy, our guns, our coffee shops, our big churches, our access to endless pharmaceuticals, our cheap food.
It appears, though, that we’ve come to a place on our climb where others are shouting to us that we’d better “down climb,” back to some safer places on the wall. They’re telling us that if we keep climbing, we’re going to climb ourselves into a situation where there’s no way up, and the only way down is to fall. S&P warned our nation the other week, and we said, “Don’t worry — we’ll climb down. We’ll live within our means.”
Maybe. But if not . . . we’ll still come down — just a lot faster, with a harder landing.
I’d suggest that, however our government solves this problem, or doesn’t, each of us would be wise to distance ourselves from the insane consumerism that’s plaguing our culture. What kind of steps can we take?
1. Live WELL within your means. If you need to take a class to live within your means, then take a class. But the simple principle of not spending more than you have is a starting point.
2. Sweep the table clear of choices, so that your considerations each day about what to do with your time and your money are answered by a single question: “What is the will of God?” Paul speaks of the liberating simplicity of this here and here. Of course, this takes practice, but as this listening for God’s will becomes part of “Coffee with God,” I find myself writing things in my prayer journal about simplifying, letting go of stuff, along with things to do with the time/money saved.
3. Learn contentment — Whether the earthquake, tornado, or tsunami is literal or metaphorical, the reality is that we need far less to be content than we think. As we shave our lifestyles down to live within our means, we find that we don’t just save money; we save time, health, peace. But we need to believe that we don’t need as much as we think we do. My friend Josh Becker has an entire website devoted to helping you with this. Take steps to find contentment in simple healthy foods, good conversation, basic clothing, and a car, or bike, or scooter that gets you from A to B. Enjoy creation more than TV. Clean out a drawer. Paul says contentment is a learned art, so start learning.
These are crazy days. This climbing without a rope can’t continue; and whether we fall quickly or slowly, I believe the chance to invite people into a better story than the lie of consumerism will be huge, but only if we ourselves are living a better story.
It starts today. How are you simplifying?
(This post was originally published on April 19, 2011, in Richard Dahlstrom’s blog, Fibonacci Faith: Changing Everything.)