The Right Stuff

I bought another planner today.

And by 'another', I don't mean my other one ran out and I had to get a new one; I mean there is still a month until school starts and I've bought three planners trying to find the perfect one. One had sweet "word of the day" features and quotes from books, but no monthly spreads. The second had the layout, but was perfect bound. The newest one is just right: fun colors, monthly spreads, spiral bound, even little tabs so you know what month you're looking at. It's exactly what I wanted.

But for some unknown reason I kept buying ones I wasn't even sure I wanted. I settled. I decided it was good enough, even though it didn't meet all my requirements.

Why do I do that? I've wasted more money on things I didn't really want just because I convinced myself that it was the best I could get. That's just ridiculous. So I open up the planner and I see this quote, front and center:

"One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes." - Eleanor Roosevelt

I sighed when I read that, because that is me in a nutshell. I never realized it until now, but I am a materialistic person. I have to have just the right stuff or I don't feel right. I can't just by 35-cent primary colored folders, I want the cute designed ones. I don't wear white socks, all mine are patterned. Come to think of it, I really don't own things that are boring. Even things no one gives a flying fig about I am particular with. I get colored q-tips because the look better. I am skeptical of anything that comes in poorly designed packaging.

When did I become such a snob?

I realized a few months ago that I am the type of person who literally judges books by their cover. If it has a unique picture or design and well-placed type, I will look at it. A book with a poorly taken photo of the author and generic centered type? Not interested. Even worse, I judge by the title. Books with titles like "The Darkest Hour" push me away. Titles like that are a dime a dozen. I once bought and read a book just because it was titled "The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse". Fantastic title, crappy book. I learned my lesson.

The thing is, I know intellectually that you shouldn't judge things on the way they look. But do I believe it? I buy things because they look a certain way and therefore I look a certain way. Wesleigh's cool, she has a tote bag with spoons on it! Who cares?? It's just stuff.

But it's not just stuff, it's my stuff. An extension of me. It's who I am.

It's who I am. I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth. I had no idea that I defined so much of myself on what I owned.

I don't want to be the kind of person who judges things on appearances and defines myself with material things. There is more to me than what operating system my computer runs on or what brand of shoes I wear. I know that then to look at other people and snap to conclusions based on their belongings. And yet somehow I seem to think that if I don't have the right stuff I'll be looked down upon.

I am just like that rich man in the New Testament that Jesus talks to. He comes before Christ and asks, "Good teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus tells him to obey the commandments and he replies that he has. So Jesus tells him to sell his possessions and give everything to the poor, his treasure is in heaven. And then it says, in Luke 18, "But when the man heard this, he became very sad, since he was very rich (v. 23)." Jesus knew the guy was attached to his property and asked him to give up useless things for something much better. Unfortunately the man was so preoccupied with the status his stuff gave him that he couldn't even give it up in exchange for eternal life.

I don't like to admit it, but there are days when I would, like the rich man, turn away and never look back. It's easier to be materialistic than give it all up for Christ. Just look at the man in Luke. He could have endured some hardship, given up his wealth, and gained everything; but instead he did what was comfortable and looked cool and as a result no one even knows what his name was.

Maybe this is a wake-call. That I need to get out of what is comfortable. Raise the level of risk.

What Do I Know of Holy?

I got up this morning determined to find God again. I had breakfast, sent some e-mails, put in a load of laundry, took care of everything that needed taken care of. When all of that was done I went to my room, lit a candle, and piled up pillows on my bed. On my computer I found my Starfield albums and set them to play all. Skimming my bookshelf I grabbed the books I would need - Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis, Anne Lamott's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, and Brennen Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel. Add to that my Bible and a notebook, and I had everything I needed.

I sat quietly, letting the music set the mood, and started to read. A few chapters into Plan B I hadn't found Jesus and abandoned it for something else. Next up was Brennan Manning. I have the Visual Edition of his book. It's a full color text/picture mash-up, full of distressed type, grungy textures, and lots of Photoshopping. It's probably marketed for teenagers, but as a designer I am drawn to these sorts of things. I crack open the book, reading the forward before getting to the meat of the book. I don't get far before I am stopped dead in my tracks. Barely five pages in and already I'm getting inundated with truth:

"We believe that we can pull ourselves up by out bootstraps - indeed, we can do it ourselves. Sooner or later we are confronted with the painful truth of our inadequacy and insufficiency ... We secretly admit that the call of Jesus is too demanding. That surrender to the Spirit is beyond our reach. We start acting like everyone else."

What was I doing? I had set out his morning to become spiritual again all by myself. I turned on some Christian music, started reading some Christian books, and expected God to show up. I had done my part of the equation, now I just had to wait (impatiently) for results. Okay, God, I'm putting in my quiet time, now pay up. Make me feel spiritual again. No wonder I wasn't getting anywhere. I was going about it for all the wrong reasons.

Brennan Manning sure knows what he is talking about. For a long time now I've let myself believe that I could do things myself. And without even realizing it I fell away, finding it hard to follow the teachings of Christ, to read the Word, to remember to pray. When I started college as a Freshman, I eagerly read my Bible. I distinctly recall walking around our campus thinking, how can someone see this much beauty and not think of God? But now, four years later, I show up to church on Sunday mornings wondering where the week went and pledging yet again that this will be the week I dust off my Bible and start reading again.

This past Sunday was one of the most spiritually charged services I have been to in a long time. It was one of those sermons that revivals are born from. We wrote on the wall behind the pulpit Raise The Level of Risk. Unleash the passion. Rethink your relationship with Christ. And many from the congregation signed their name to the movement. I felt like something huge was starting. Jim, our pastor, made the comment on Facebook later that every time he thought about it he was reminded of the song "What Do We Know of Holy?" by Addison Road. I looked up the lyrics, and found myself in them. I talk the whole time instead of listening, too. I've learned to talk about Jesus without following through. What do I know of holy?

I flipped open my Bible, like I should have done in the first place. I find myself in John 6, and read where Jesus says, "The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing."

I can't do it myself. I can't shut myself in my room with a stack of books and a scented candle and become spiritual again. I have to go to God. I have to pray, and shut up and listen to what He has to say. I read this last night in Ephesians, and it has been stuck in my mind ever since. This is my prayer, not just for myself, but for everyone else struggling with being distant from God:

I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. [Eph. 3:16-19]