I've just finished reading Through Painted Deserts, by Donald Miller. This is the second book I've read by Don and just like Blue Like Jazz, it hit me where I live.
The theme that hit me hardest was the idea of "believing the commercials." Our (my) society has been completely sucked in by the idea that having more stuff (iPod) or eating at certain restaurants (mmm...Chipotle...mmm) or going on fancy vacations or any of the other lies the advertising agencies share with us will make us feel better (or at least different) about ourselves, that we will have a better life because we possess some magical "IT."
My trap is stuff. I think that the next purse or the next pair of shoes will make me complete. Obviously, I'm not stupid, I know ultimately, it will make no difference, but I dare to dream.
I want it out of my system. Sometimes I feel like it's gone. I don't buy anything stupid for weeks, even months. Then, I decide one thing I want is alright and it starts the cycle of spending to make myself happy all over again.
God, help me be responsible. Help me understand that I don't need any thing to make me happy or contented.
2 comments:
I rabbit-holed over to your blog from Jule Ann's. Keep posting. I graduated last year from university, struggle for truth, and have been humbled by how little thought I put into my everyday life and decision making. The tension between materialism and being a good stewart is always present. How my time and money is spent always matters to God, to myself, and to others...discernment is clearly needed but in the business of my days it often alludes me. I digress...just a little nudge to let you know that someone is reading and appreciating and that the idea of being in a crowded wilderness is insightful if not even a powerful description of so many lives.
Good point. I think sometimes God punishes through spontaneous and inexplicable loss of teeth! Ok, just kidding...I think. But you make an excelent point. My problem seems to be work. It's real easy for me to put work over God in my life, because I think it might be fulfilling. But every time I do, it eventually hits me like a ton of bricks. And when I get a chance to look back, I see how useless work really was in the long run, when done in contradiction to what God might have planned for my time. Although work is necesary, I wasn't a good steward of my of my time. I may have missed out on something else God had in store for me, or for someone else. Not only do I steal my time from God, but I might have stolen what God intended for someone else, and I missed out on a great experience. It might go the same way for shoes, or restaurants. Maybe that $20 (exageration?) I just spent on a small starbucks coffee would have gone to a better place in a mexican orphanage, or served better in sending me to one to help. That would have been way cooler than a cup of coffee.
Post a Comment