“You are much more than your toys, you are much more than your noise.”
–Mister Rogers
“If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.”
–Jesus
I am the beneficiary
of Amazing Grace, in every minute of every day. Dwelling in this real life state of grace, (and mellowed by age and trial), most of the time I well up with gratitude and joy for the beauty of moments I don’t deserve. The older I get, the clearer and freer this becomes (take heart, younger reader!) But this grace can get blocked by sin of all kinds. Sin separates people from God whether that particular individual follows Christ or not. And this makes me want to ruthlessly eliminate every thing that distances me from God.
Life in our culture of affluence, variety, disposability, and of-the-moment fashion makes buying things so . . . feel-good. A quick look at ads, social media, or popular culture in any form points us to “retail therapy.”
When I was a kid, my grandma used to buy me things to tell me that I was special to her. She was an adopted only child, who birthed an only child, who got married and parented me, another then third-generation only child. Because of this lineage and a few other factors, giving gifts was a huge way of her showing love to me. I watched the ads sprinkled in with morning cartoons and prime time sitcoms. As I got older, I hung out at the mall as a middle and high schooler, like kids of the 80’s and 90’s did. And this resulted in habits and patterns that caused me to associate new things with love, acceptance, victory, and worth. New things made me feel good. And the way I’ve been getting these good feelings is coming between me and God.
The Engineer grew up differently.
Sometimes his mom or dad worked multiple jobs to make ends meet. They lived in a small town, so an hour of driving was required to get to the nearest shopping mall. Online shopping hadn’t been invented yet. And while mom loves a good yard sale, she usually has a list in mind before leaving the house. Buying things rarely crosses the Engineer’s mind when he’s feeling bad or wanting to show or receive love. It was one of the major adjustments we made when we brought out worlds-different cultures together into marriage.
And I honestly see that there’s more to consumerism than the dopamine hit or the feel-good association. Consumerism is built right into the fabric of the industrial and post-industrial age. There is no reason to “progress” to mass production unless there are masses of buyers willing to buy en masse. But that is for another post.
Stewarding this life and the things in my life are too important to float along on the wide stream of our culture. Every time I spend time or money, I’m making choices, and I hate to admit it, but I choose poorly a good deal of the time simply because my default is in line with our culture. And recently I’ve been feeling a heart tug that it’s also detracting from me seeing God clearly and enjoying him fully.
In any area that I don’t have a counter-cultural conviction, the prevailing winds of culture will move me along just fine.
So November became a month for thinking more carefully about my spending habits. Because it can be so reflexive, I made a (non exhaustive) list of (some of) my specific weaknesses:
- Books
Books are like windows into different worlds. They serve as companions, shields, connectors, equippers, and the can openers and free weights of my mind. The itch of my soul is insatiable, and learning is totally a lifestyle for our family. It’s also hard to resist finding books that paint the lifestyle that I would like to have. Coyote’s Guide to the Wilderness hasn’t been read cover to cover, but sits as a stalwart reminder to get outdoors, even if it’s to play foursquare for 30 minutes with the children. - Tools
Maybe it’s the dual-engineer household or the consultant-equipper in both of us. We have a tools category in our budget. Making things is our jam, so tools are our jam. These enablers are so much fun to research, and buying them feels like education or feeding my soul with new possibility. - High end skin care
I remember the special relationship my mom had with her makeup lady at the mall, Lori. They would talk about movies, and travel, and never using Oil of Olay because it would clog up mom’s pores. I felt like the makeup counter served as a secret handshake of women who took care of their skin. And honestly, the rise of the false god of Self-Care has opened my eyes to what expensive skin care is actually about: a certain set of feelings that I have arrived because I can take care of the skin on my face. - Wonderful ingredients
I don’t really need to say more. Yes, the cinnamon out of the $10 bottle really does taste 5x better than the stuff out of the $2 bottle. And sometimes your favorite organic dark chocolate bar is found on sale for $1.64. My stomach can sometimes function as my god. Especially when my firstborn is with me, apparently. - General enablers for anything
Not enough outlets in the room we’re in? Just hop on Amazon (the place where ALL THINGS COME FROM) and get a nice power strip. Can opener just broke? Get another one while we’re out and about. Firstborn can’t make a favorite dessert because we’re missing a key ingredient? Let’s head for the grocery store!
And isn’t that what the deadly disease buyitis is all about? A set of feelings I get when I lay eyes on The Thing. When I research The Thing. When I order The Thing. When I receive and unbox The Thing.
And all of this frightens me about me, on many levels. I have friends who have real needs. She doesn’t have a car. He doesn’t have a job. I posted on social media last week about the growing national problem of hungry children in public schools. Argh. If I don’t need it, and I buy it because of a feeling I get, then that transaction has just said about my heart that I prefer my wants over someone else’s needs, period. How can I be loving my neighbor when I make countless unloving choices against him?
And what have I that I did not receive?
Practically Speaking
I’m just starting to think about blocking or opt outing of advertising and cookies that pop up when I’m reading about missionaries or downloading the candidate guide for this week’s election. Because my subconscious is so strong and so quick, I feel as if I don’t stand a chance. The obvious answer here is to not get on the internet without a *good* purpose.
On Sunday night I often take my oldest 2 boys to student ministry time at the church office. While it’s fun to wistfully dream about the $0.99 hidden finds at the Goodwill just waiting to be discovered 8 minutes down the street, I don’t need anything. Repeat. I don’t need anything. So I won’t leave where I am in order to to buy anything I don’t need. That’s it.
These rules can be helpful, but they are truly just warm-ups, really. I want to invest where moth and rust cannot destroy, not just exorcise the buyitis demon and sweep up, leaving the house empty.
When I started talking about this, the Engineer reminded me that we are frugal people. My kids don’t have buyitis (yet). We reduce consumption in countless ways, some of which will probably gross you out. We eat the whole animal. We can, freeze, and ferment food. Our compost pile is epic. We don’t shower every day or wash our clothing unless it shows symptoms of needing to be washed (this is truly an amazing way to reduce consumption, by the way). But in this conversation, he reminded me that listing the upstanding characteristics of frugality that we demonstrate doesn’t exempt me from catching a chronic case of buyitis.
Even then, my pride can also give me a false sense of piety when I restrain myself from buying something! For if I choose not to spend that money on a true need or on investing in something worthwhile and eternal, well, didn’t I just align myself with that final wicked servant who buried his talent in the dirt?
Bigger Questions
I need both putting-off-bad-habits change, the renewing of my mind about things, and the putting on of the Truth behind why I have all of my needs met and a good amount of my wants too.
Today I was helping the Engineer trim the shop and office building. As I was perched on a ladder, working with sheet metal (and sweating, by the way, not because it was heavy but because I’m not that comfortable on a ladder), I had no time to get distracted by my feelings. I had no excess focus to put on much else. My energy was given as a gift. My life in faith is a stewardship. Keeping it focused on why I’m here and doing the things I’m called to in the moment keep my hands out of the devil’s workshop.
SQUIRREL!
I’m just not there yet. And until I get there, I’m asking myself a few bigger questions to bridge the gap between rule-based buying (hint: I’m really clever at breaking my own rules) and Spirit-led stewardship.
- Is this Thing trying to take the place of a Relationship I should be cultivating? Is the feeling I want to get from this action really getting me what I want? It’s like the question in the book Crucial Conversations: What do I really want? And will this action get me there? Blasted self-honestly usually works.
- Is this Thing really going to move us forward in the vision God has graciously given?
- Is there someone I can see, with a need right now that I can meet using the money I would use to buy this thing?
I know this is an area where I want to get off the conveyor. I’m not there yet. I feel like I’ve tried this before and yet still my eyes are opening to new ways to thinking and doing life in my relationship with buying.
Is there something that is coming between you and God that you want to see change in your life?