“It’s not fair!” It’s Alex’s new favorite phrase. It’s not fair that he can’t have a new toy every time we go to Target. It’s not fair that he can’t have a bedtime book when he’s piddled away the hour before 8p.m. doing nothing except singing absently, staring off into space. It’s not fair that I won’t let him have a snack ten minutes before dinner. “But Mommy, I’m staaaaaaarving!” (You know you said it that way, too. So did I.)
That was the last straw. “That’s it,” I said, losing my temper. “The next time you tell me it’s not fair, you’re going to start losing things, so you’ll learn what it’s really like not to have anything. You are not starving. Starving means you don’t get breakfast, lunch, or dinner. You have nothing to eat for a whole day. That’s starving. You are not starving.”
The thought of a whole day without food was so startling to him that he actually shut up for a minute. Then he started asking questions about being poor. I could see the gears spinning in his head, a mental count of all the toys he has downstairs, the ones he couldn’t live without and has now scorned, the desserts and the pastas and the steaks he eats.
As the next few days passed, I realized he wasn’t hurling that “f” word around quite so freely. Perhaps the lesson about materialism was sinking in, I thought with satisfaction.
Sunday morning I went into the closet to dress for church, and scowled at the selection. I need some new clothes! I hate wearing these old things. Yeah, I’ve got the new outfit, but that’s a winter outfit, and besides, I wore it last week. These clothes are so boring. I need to go shopping.
And I stopped, horrified. I stood there staring at the 6-foot-long bar nicely crowded with hanging clothes, as if seeing it for the first time. Yes, I have much less than many women—not even enough to require putting away one season’s clothes to make room for the next. Yes, I’ve had some of these clothes since before we were married. Yes, I’m hopelessly bored with most of them. But good Lord, the riches in my closet! How many women in the world would sigh with envy over my paltry, staid, boring wardrobe?
Sheepishly, I picked out the camel-colored suit we bought for $12.99 a dozen years ago and got dressed. I still didn’t like it, but like Alex, the reality of my blessed life had smacked me in the head, reminding me how very privileged I am to have the luxury of griping about such things.
My brother-in-law quoted an interesting tidbit recently: America is the only prosperous nation in the world whose people claim that religion is important to them. In the rest of the world, prosperity equals complacency; it is poverty that brings out a sense of what’s really important.
But before we set out in a flurry of self-congratulation, it seems to me that we have some soul-searching to do. Because if novelty and materialism is as deeply ingrained in our collective consciousness as Alex and I just demonstrated, then our faith is really a farce. Even now, as I type, I’m looking for some justification to get rid of my wardrobe and replace it—not because it’s worn out, not because it’s even out of fashion, but simply because *I want*.
Bounty is not a bad thing, nor is enjoying it.
“There is nothing better for man than to eat and drink and provide himself with good things by his labors. Even this, I realized, is from the hand of God. For who can eat or drink apart from him?” (Ecclesiastes 2: 24-25)
But it must be enjoyed with a healthy perspective of gratitude, or too quickly, bounty turns to “chasing after the wind.” And so today I go looking for the blessings I spend more time griping about than being thankful for:
a closet full of clothes I’m bored with, more than I could possibly need
a lawn full of mole hills and weeds, that never slowed down, this wet summer
the richness of children who never let up, who always need a piece of me
a kitchen full of dishes that need cleaning
the milk that my kids are so good at spilling
the pile of DVDs that kids are always throwing on the floor
the pile of books that kids are always throwing on the floor
the seemingly endless babyhood of my littles
the boundless energy of my oldest, who wears me out
the extra pounds that I can’t seem to get rid of because we eat so well
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Linked to Multitude Mondays at A Holy Experience.
Kathleen M. Basi 
Wonderful writing, I agree wholeheartedly. Thank you for being you, the you the God has given us.
We would all do well to keep this in mind. Think of the extreme poverty that many in the world have to live with, and you’ll realize that we have much to be thankful for. As my dad jokes, we have closets “full of nothing to wear.” Just like we have a refrigerator full of nothing to eat and TV with channels full of nothing to watch! Our problem is that we usually have so much that it’s spoiled us and we fail to be grateful for what we have. Forgive me, Lord, for my lack of gratitude…
Evan
Evan, that is such a poignant quote. Thanks for sharing.
Funny how a friend and I were discussing this on Google Buzz recently: we unintentionally take so many things for granted. Those who live without, cherish everything.
I will never forget the lessons I learned after working as a grocery manager… the dreaded empty shelf that sparked rage in people. Their brand wasn’t in stock, although countless other variations of the same product were there. An 8-foot section of Jell-o prompted one person to say, “Where’s the Jell-O? You have nothing here.”
Two years ago, we ran out of canned pumpkin due to a weather-affected shortage. The multiple pallets that I ordered ran out – two days before Thanksgiving – yet, instead of being thankful that we can walk into stores stocked with fresh food and dairy, one lady bluntly informed me that I “should be fired for not doing [my] job.”
So when I rush to the store for a couple gallons of milk, to discover the milk delivery didn’t come in… and I’m tempted to complain about the inconvenience of driving down the street to another chain. Well – I try to tell myself instead, “How fortunate are you!”
I can always drink my tap water, and not even worry about dying from it. We truly are spoiled… how different would we be, if circumstances forced us to walk a few thousands miles in someone else’s bare feet.
Oooh, I resemble this comment. I don’t know that I’ve ever snapped at anyone, but I’ve certainly been irritable about things being missing when I WANT THEM. Less so in recent years, though, as I’ve gotten to know some of the people who work at the stores–one who worked through treatment for throat cancer, another who came to sing in our choir, one who is always sharing an enthusiasm for football…when people become real to you, more than just robots who perform a task, it’s harder to yell at them.
I think that is partly why some customers and associates refuse to engage one another… because they secretly want to hold onto their grudges and frustrations. It’s more satisfying to feel victimized and helpless, that to admit we have options.
Two nights ago, I went in search of a particular brand of medication (at 10:30 PM)… and was “forced” to visit three different 24-hour drug stores before I found it.
On the drive home, as I grumbled under my breath about wasted time, I was suddenly convicted by my spirit… Here is a country where we have 24 hour access to anything we could possible need – emergency room care, medication, food, gas… and I’m ungrateful because it took 30 minutes longer than I’d anticipated?!
Splendid! Although…I am editing my closet for the first time in years and years. Four turtlenecks sized 14-16 in boys sizes from my son’s (who is now 6 ft tall) throw away pile years ago…a skirt handed down to me 20 years ago from my cousin, etc. I know I may be sounding like I am justifying my decision to hand off clothing, but I feel like a change is in order. Sometimes a change in our outer-ness is a reflection of a change in our inner-ness…this I’m hoping is true, for my inner-ness needs healing and change.
Oh, Jodi, how I hope it does just what you need it to do. You’re right, we’ve got to find some sort of balance. I’m sure I will change out my wardrobe, too, bit by bit, but at least I have to remember how blessed I am to have it at all!
great post. I was reminded recently that, though I have financial concerns right now, I still have a full refrigerator. I have never gone hungry. I need to be more grateful for what I have. God bless!
A good reminder to be thankful for what we have.
Well, you just killed my desire to stop by the mall for a new pair of pants (because I ‘don’t have a single decent pair’) this afternoon. Thank you. And I’ll definitely be redefining ‘starving’ for my kids, too. They toss around that word (in addition to ‘need’) way too often as well. Great post for me to read on this rainy, dreary Sunday afternoon!
LOL. Sorry, Amy!
Love your list. That’s what we have to remember: we are all blessed beyond measure!
as we’re counting thanks, i am thankful for the reminder here. thank you.
i count it a Sacred echo from this reading at Ann’s a few days ago:
North America feels pretty comfortable in the middle. Balance, everyone says. I don’t know what Jesus is going to say to you.. How He might direct your life now… just don’t assume He wants you to live in the middle. Be open to the possibility …. Of something radically different.”
“God gives the world enough of what it needs. He just doesn’t distribute it.”
(http://www.aholyexperience.com/2010/10/when-youre-dying-to-live-radical-fight/)
much to ponder, gratitude friend.