On the subject of Black Friday . . . Yesterday, while in the church nursery, Mike introduced me to a lady he had been talking to about this very subject. She brought to our attention 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. The idea: An exercise in simplicity. Take 7 areas of excess in western life and reduce to simple choices: Food, clothes, Possessions, Media, Waste, Spending and Stress. Below is an excerpt from the publication:
"So what used to be comfortable (being a big fat consumer Christian) became uncomfortable; then what was uncomfortable (engaging the poor) became comfortable. Follow? Perhaps I gave up emotional comfort for awhile, but then God affirmed Himself as our provider, established the vision He gave us, and taught me how to love. The uncomfortable turned into our life's mission, and we would never go back.
That said, a new tension began lurking. The catalyst was the week we housed twelve evacuees from Hurricane Ike. Our little church, four months old at the time, took in eighty strangers from the coast that had nowhere to go. We moved our three kids into our bedroom, washed sheets, bler up mattresses, rolled out sleeping bags, and readied the house for an onslaught. As carloads arrived and we welcomed them in, one ten-year-old boy walked into our home, looked around with huge eyes, and hollered:
"Dad! This white dude is RICH!"
We are.
For years I didn't realize this because so many others had more. We were surrounded by extreme affluence, which tricks you into thinking you're in the middle of the pack. I mean, sure, we have 2400 square feet for only 5 humans to live in, but our kids have never been on an airplane, so how rich could we be? We haven't traveled to Italy, my kids are in public schools, and we don't even own a time-share. (Roll eyes here.)
But it gets fuzzy once you spend time with people below your rung. I started seeing my stuff with fresh eyes, realizing we had everything. I mean everything. We've never missed a meal or even skimped one one. We have a beautiful home in a great neighborhood. Our kids are in a Texas exemplary school. We drive two cars under warranty. We've never gone a day without health insurance. Our closets are overflowing. We throw away food we didn't eat, clothes we barely wore, trash that will never disintegrate, stuff that fell out of fashion.
And I was so blinded I didn't even know we were rich.
How can I be socially responsible if unaware that I reside in the top percentage of wealth in the world? (You probably do too: Make $35,000 a year? Top 4%. $50,000? Top 1 percent. Excess has impaired perspective in America; we are the richest people on earth, praying to get richer. We're tangled in unmanageable debt while feeding the machine, because we feel entitled to more. What does it communicate when half the global population lives on less than $2 a day, and we can't manage a fulfilling life on twenty-five thousand times that amount? Fifty-thousand times that amount?
It says we have too much and it is ruining us. " -Jen Hatmaker 7 An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess
The idea is intriguing. Take one area of excess at a time and simplify. Choose 7 foods, no more and live on this for a time . . . 7 days or a month? Need to pray about it . . . Not only will this rock our spoiled American lives but it will allow for perspective.
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