Our small group is reading the book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. I thought it was a wonderful idea when we decided to study this book over the summer. But now I’m actually reading the chapters and my mind, heart, and soul are in conflict…Every area of my being is having a hard time with the truth written on the pages.
The author, Jen Hatmaker is over-dramatic, self-indulgent, witty, nutty, moving, insightful and spot on. I just finished the third chapter of this fantastic book and am already analyzing my plan of action in response to the challenge.
As a nation, as a state, as a city (and unfortunately, as a family) we have more than we need. Not more than we want, there’s plenty more that we want. But our homes “house” so much more than we need. Hatmaker’s challenge is to re-examine our lives and determine what we can do without, in turn, freeing us up to see God more clearly.
People around the globe, even in our own cities, are hungry every day of their lives. They go to bed cold or wet or . They need shelter. They need clothing. They need to know that they are loved and have value. Obviously, giving away our “stuff” and eating less doesn’t increase another person’s value but it does awaken our souls to their plight and leads us closer to being the Hands and Feet to those who need it most.
As I write this, I’m sitting in my “new” office with walls painted a soothing Sea Foam Green/Blue to stimulate my creativity. I’m sitting in a plush office chair, surrounded wall hangings of family photos, my diplomas and Ordination certificates and personal artwork. It is all illuminated by the warm glow of a beautiful lamp on the coffee table snugly positioned between two fantastic black sitting chairs. It is the perfect setting to tell you about this book and how it will change your life when you give up stuff, food, clothes, media, etc.
That is, it WOULD be the perfect setting if it weren’t for the four boxes stacked behind the door, filled with old journals, Bibles and birding books. If it weren’t for the closet filled with enough clothes to outfit me for three weeks without breaking a sweat. If it weren’t for the freshly brewed coffee in the hand-made mug and the plate of artisan bread and local honey beside my laptop that I snack on to keep my energy going while I type. If it weren’t for the syncing IPod that has interrupted my thought process three times because I want to have more music on my device than the meager 8 G device can hold.
Oh ya. I have a lot of work to do.
