To Whom Too Much Has Been Given

Some of the things that came out of that craft room. Only some.

My daughter and I have been embarking on a second round of Jen Hatmaker’s book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.A more detailed explanation can be found here. And here. This is my weekly progress check in.

For May20-June 20, the plan is to give seven things away. Every day. That’s approximately 210 things just for me. This does not count the daughter. Or, potentially, the other daughter who is coming home from college this week and may want to join us. Or not. She probably feels deprived enough already having just spent the last year eating dorm cafeteria food. Still, she should read last month’s conclusions on food, I guess.

OK, so you have to know, I started this giving away stuff long before the beginning of this month of Possessions. Like, over spring break, when I enlisted a friend of mine who had foolishly offered to help clean my craft room. She offered. I needed the drill sergeant to make me toss stuff. It was a match made in, well, second grade when our daughters became best friends.

We gave away/threw away five garbage bags of stuff. And trust me, that room is still full. I promised myself that a year from now, if I haven’t used it, more is going to go. The girls are done with matchstick eiffel towers and unidentified clay creations. 4H years are over. Get a grip, mom. It’s time.

Then the linen closet. At least ten old towels and various wash clothes donated to the wildlife center. Just in time for baby animal birthing. And I don’t miss them at all. About seventeen sheets and pillowcases. Why? Why? I have no idea where some of these even came from or whose bed they ever graced. Out.

Next came clothes. Again, three huge bags of them. Losing 45 pounds does something to your wardrobe, namely, causes most of it to hang on you like a needy girlfriend. Not to mention expose parts of your underwear that are not, sorry ladies, for public view. Necklines that used to sit right just . . . don’t now. So, out they all went. Yeah, are you ready? 60 pieces of clothing. And one winter coat. I am not done yet. Why do I have so many clothes? How can one person wear that much? When the washer was broken for a month, I still had enough clean shirts to wear every day—and that’s just depressing. Yes, most of them are $5 Old Navy specials, but still. Who needs that much?

“When someone has been given much, much will be 

required in return; and when someone has been entrusted

 with much, even more will be required.” (Luke 12.48)

I know, in context this is not talking about possessions, per se. But I think it is still applicable for those of us to whom so much has been given. I’ve not just been given things. I’ve been entrusted. Am I acting in ways worthy of God’s trust? Do I think about my things in a way that makes Him glad He trusted me? I’m doubtful.

So now, after all that, we are starting the month of giving away seven things every day. You’d think I would be out of things to toss. Sadly, I am quite sure this won’t even be difficult. The thing is, I want it to be difficult. I’m not sure how to really feel this one. But I am sure God will have it figured out. Time to listen. And toss. And give. I am excited.

After. So wish I had taken a before. You would have been suitably appalled.

Guilt, Gales, and Going Where the Wind Blows

I’ve been doing a lot of things lately with the potential to throw me under the guilt bus. Writing a sermon this week on “The Gospel for the Weak.” Reading Jen Hatmaker’s Interrupted. Re-reading her book, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. Seeing Baltimore. Can’t really write this sermon without walking through Baltimore. Mentally. Going through all my summer clothes and realizing how many I have. Just after posting on Facebook that I have no summer clothes that fit and no money to buy any more. Both lies.

Ugh.

Now before you lecture me on the finer points of why we should not feel guilty (or why we should), please note that I have finally developed a pretty good sense of when guilt is from Satan and when it’s conviction from God. I know the former is about as necessary to my life as putting tapioca pudding in the gas tank would be necessary for my car.

Yes, sometimes storms can be crazy.

But holy conviction is good. It’s painful as heck, but it’s good. At first, you feel constricted and buffeted, like a tornado is approaching, and you can feel the vacuum created before the storm. But then, giving in to the wind, you get lifted on it and taken to new places. Good places you didn’t imagine gong before and aren’t sure you would have gone on your own. Holy conviction is emancipating.

And that’s what I’m feeling.

All this to say, my middle daughter and I have decided to go through the book 7 again. We did it as a family a few years ago. The premise of the book is that our lives are too full. Packed full. Full of things we don’t need that suck the life out of us, not to mention the compassion. So sometimes, we need to take stock of those things and jettison large portions of them, at least for a time. One hopes, it becomes a way of life.

• Food.
• Clothes.
• Possessions.
• Media.
• Waste.
• Spending.
• Stress.

These are the seven things we’re going to, once again, narrow down in an attempt to focus our lives on . . . on what? Just having less? No, that would not be sustainable as a motivation. On feeling the “enoughness” of God. On growing closer to knowing His heart by cutting out the things that distract us from it. Things that we amass all around us that we don’t realize are choking our spirits.

Because they feel so good.

I want to know, not just esoterically believe, that God is enough.  .Then, I want to let that hurricane wind blow me wherever it will in its holy conviction about what I own, or what owns me. About how I spend my time and money, or how it spends me. Sometimes, I am tired of being spent.  .

Join me in going wherever the wind blows? I’m so ready.

“The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound.” (John 3.8)

This month, we’re eating only seven things. That’s correct. Seven things. For me, it’s chicken, fish, eggs, tomatoes, bananas, rice, and strawberries. Limiting? Yes. But for a girl who hates cooking? Well, there are some perks there. We’ll talk about it more.

Already, though, there is freedom. Shopping? A breeze. Cooking? No time at all. Focus on things other than how much food we have, how to use it up before it goes bad, what we “need” from the grocery store, and what to make that is at all interesting when I have about as much interest in cooking as I do in body piercing? None. No need to expend any energy on food. At All. I love it. What are we learning? How are we changing? Stay tuned.

You can read about the experiment in more depth here.

You can even purchase the book 7 here. Then, let’s keep each other on track with encouragement and talk about what we’re learning. At least, this month, I’m learning to cook chicken and eggs. A lot. (And asking myself the question–are they really the same thing? So, should they only count as one thing? This is important wrestling, people.)

Wind is crazy. And beautiful.