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NEW BLOG POST: The Deluge: Casting Off Greed and Meeting Real Needs http://ping.fm/FcqrV
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THE DELUGE: Casting Off Greed and Meeting Real Needs
If you’re from anywhere near Nashville , Tennessee , you might now feel the urge to scream at the sight or sound of the word “flood.” I know; I do. But hand in hand with that urge to vent all one’s angst is a ceaseless fascination with anything related to the Great Flood of 2010. Again, I can bear witness to that. The real carrier of Nashville Flood news is now social media, and I can hardly peel my eyes from it these last seven days.
I’ve no intention of creating yet another written account of the storm, the flood, the aftermath, or even the swarm of loving, giving people overtaking our communities to help in the rescue and restoration efforts. So if you’re looking for such details, skip on over to YouTube or FaceBook, as I’ve something else on my mind. Besides, I was not caught in the epicenter of the devastation, and am in no position to be a representative voice for the victims of this city’s worst disaster on record since the Civil War.
As much as last weekend’s deluge swamped my yard and basement, another deluge has swamped my soul. At first, it was the thumping, ceaseless rain throughout last weekend that muffled my joy and dampened my spirits. Next, news of devastation affecting neighbors, friends, and historically important places entered my psyche like polluted mud seeping in to cloud my perspective and enshroud any feeling of hope. But in these last few days, as the indomitable power of the human spirit has been on display for all to see, I turn a critical eye toward my own usually indefatigable spirit. Why so blue, I’m thinking, when my family and I were spared our home, our lives? The sun has returned full force, my yard is lush and green, and I feel like a shriveling lily.
It was the window that did it. Strolling across Vanderbilt’s medical campus Friday afternoon to visit a patient, I caught sight of my rather puffy outline in the café window. Wowww, I thought, that’s not the figure I’m used to seeing. I’m clearly not starving! And it hit me. I’ve been hoarding. In so many ways. While seemingly every person in Nashville is abuzz with items to give to the flood victims, from clothes, to household goods, to food and bottled water, I’m struck by how much I’ve taken in that I haven’t needed. And I’m deluged with myriad thoughts in flashes, from how much I’ve been spending in groceries, to how often I overeat, to shoes I never needed, to the box of linens I haven’t used in years that I failed to bring to the flood swap at work today. In the flood of stories of voluntarism saving Nashville from the devastation, I realize how much I have to give, and in contrast, how I've been hoarding.
I’m overcome with my own greed. Next to me on my desk sit two pieces of pizza from a group lunch. “I’ll take them home for dinner,” I tell myself, before remembering that I have an entire pizza leftover in the fridge from the other night. My compulsion to keep things from going to waste has gone to my waist, for certain. Long gone are the days when my kids and I had not quite enough to eat, so why do I still live in the collecting mode? Like our grandparents still saving every little thread in the aftermath of the World War, I’ve been hoarding. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of habit. But I can find nothing good in this lifestyle. I’ve even begun to conserve my physical energy (i.e. not exercise) in case I might need it later. This makes me tired. Lethergic. Lazy. Overweight.
I hoard money. Not that I make much, mind you, but I’m stingy even with my own children. Shame on me. Saving for a rainy day? I wish I could say so. After years of marriage to an extremely controlling man, I learned to love the freedom of having my own fist around the dollars. My Christian faith tells me that giving a tenth of my income to others in need is the only way to live. Perhaps my ignoring this way of life is why I’ve been in sort of a holding pattern for the last several years.
And what about my time? Ok, so I’ve finally signed up with Hands On Nashville for a couple service gigs. Yay me. But it is high time I began to give away my time and energy on a regular basis. I no longer work two jobs. It took me forty years, but I finally learned the art of relaxing and taking care of myself, so I can’t say I’m in a needed “restful phase” of midlife. I certainly needed this last year of recovery and recuperation. But by now I’ve gone too far, and serve my own greed far more than the needs of others. Things are out of kilter, and I’m dying to turn them around.
So as I sit here finishing this piece at the Knoxville Hampton Inn on Mother’s Day, eyeing uber-fit cyclists in a race, huffing past the window before me, I see myself clearly as “on the wrong side of the glass.” Done with allowing myself the luxury of greed, done with allowing myself to sit out the race of life, done with growing fat and lazy both in my spirit and my body, I’m making a little commitment to myself for the rest of 2010:
I choose to volunteer more of my off-time rather than hoarding it for my own “relaxation.”
I choose to live more lean, buying only what I really need and no more.
I choose to give more liberally to my children; they don’t ask for much, but I know there are things they’d love to have.
I choose to challenge myself rather than sit and wonder what challenges others.
I choose to eat smaller portions, less fat and sugar, and snack on fruit rather than expensive bad-for-me snacks.
I choose to drink more water and buy less latte, chai, beer and wine.
I choose to budget my monthly grocery expenditures, and make more on meals for those in need at my church.
I choose to use the art paper, canvases and paints I have at home before buying any new art supplies.
I choose to transform my morning “quiet time” into a walking (or running) prayer. I’ll spend more time praying for the need of others than asking God to talk to me about my own life.
I hope this speaks to you in some way, and encourages you on your path. Whatever you have or don’t have, whatever you need, whatever you have to share with others, may you be inspired in the aftermath. I feel sure that the more we all give of ourselves, the better off we'll all be. Share
I’ve no intention of creating yet another written account of the storm, the flood, the aftermath, or even the swarm of loving, giving people overtaking our communities to help in the rescue and restoration efforts. So if you’re looking for such details, skip on over to YouTube or FaceBook, as I’ve something else on my mind. Besides, I was not caught in the epicenter of the devastation, and am in no position to be a representative voice for the victims of this city’s worst disaster on record since the Civil War.
As much as last weekend’s deluge swamped my yard and basement, another deluge has swamped my soul. At first, it was the thumping, ceaseless rain throughout last weekend that muffled my joy and dampened my spirits. Next, news of devastation affecting neighbors, friends, and historically important places entered my psyche like polluted mud seeping in to cloud my perspective and enshroud any feeling of hope. But in these last few days, as the indomitable power of the human spirit has been on display for all to see, I turn a critical eye toward my own usually indefatigable spirit. Why so blue, I’m thinking, when my family and I were spared our home, our lives? The sun has returned full force, my yard is lush and green, and I feel like a shriveling lily.
It was the window that did it. Strolling across Vanderbilt’s medical campus Friday afternoon to visit a patient, I caught sight of my rather puffy outline in the café window. Wowww, I thought, that’s not the figure I’m used to seeing. I’m clearly not starving! And it hit me. I’ve been hoarding. In so many ways. While seemingly every person in Nashville is abuzz with items to give to the flood victims, from clothes, to household goods, to food and bottled water, I’m struck by how much I’ve taken in that I haven’t needed. And I’m deluged with myriad thoughts in flashes, from how much I’ve been spending in groceries, to how often I overeat, to shoes I never needed, to the box of linens I haven’t used in years that I failed to bring to the flood swap at work today. In the flood of stories of voluntarism saving Nashville from the devastation, I realize how much I have to give, and in contrast, how I've been hoarding.
I’m overcome with my own greed. Next to me on my desk sit two pieces of pizza from a group lunch. “I’ll take them home for dinner,” I tell myself, before remembering that I have an entire pizza leftover in the fridge from the other night. My compulsion to keep things from going to waste has gone to my waist, for certain. Long gone are the days when my kids and I had not quite enough to eat, so why do I still live in the collecting mode? Like our grandparents still saving every little thread in the aftermath of the World War, I’ve been hoarding. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of habit. But I can find nothing good in this lifestyle. I’ve even begun to conserve my physical energy (i.e. not exercise) in case I might need it later. This makes me tired. Lethergic. Lazy. Overweight.
I hoard money. Not that I make much, mind you, but I’m stingy even with my own children. Shame on me. Saving for a rainy day? I wish I could say so. After years of marriage to an extremely controlling man, I learned to love the freedom of having my own fist around the dollars. My Christian faith tells me that giving a tenth of my income to others in need is the only way to live. Perhaps my ignoring this way of life is why I’ve been in sort of a holding pattern for the last several years.
And what about my time? Ok, so I’ve finally signed up with Hands On Nashville for a couple service gigs. Yay me. But it is high time I began to give away my time and energy on a regular basis. I no longer work two jobs. It took me forty years, but I finally learned the art of relaxing and taking care of myself, so I can’t say I’m in a needed “restful phase” of midlife. I certainly needed this last year of recovery and recuperation. But by now I’ve gone too far, and serve my own greed far more than the needs of others. Things are out of kilter, and I’m dying to turn them around.
So as I sit here finishing this piece at the Knoxville Hampton Inn on Mother’s Day, eyeing uber-fit cyclists in a race, huffing past the window before me, I see myself clearly as “on the wrong side of the glass.” Done with allowing myself the luxury of greed, done with allowing myself to sit out the race of life, done with growing fat and lazy both in my spirit and my body, I’m making a little commitment to myself for the rest of 2010:
I choose to volunteer more of my off-time rather than hoarding it for my own “relaxation.”
I choose to live more lean, buying only what I really need and no more.
I choose to give more liberally to my children; they don’t ask for much, but I know there are things they’d love to have.
I choose to challenge myself rather than sit and wonder what challenges others.
I choose to eat smaller portions, less fat and sugar, and snack on fruit rather than expensive bad-for-me snacks.
I choose to drink more water and buy less latte, chai, beer and wine.
I choose to budget my monthly grocery expenditures, and make more on meals for those in need at my church.
I choose to use the art paper, canvases and paints I have at home before buying any new art supplies.
I choose to transform my morning “quiet time” into a walking (or running) prayer. I’ll spend more time praying for the need of others than asking God to talk to me about my own life.
I hope this speaks to you in some way, and encourages you on your path. Whatever you have or don’t have, whatever you need, whatever you have to share with others, may you be inspired in the aftermath. I feel sure that the more we all give of ourselves, the better off we'll all be. Share
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