Money

I want to be responsible with my money, and I want to live only within my means. I also want my "means" to be not "what I can afford" but to give as more than I can afford and live under those means. I don't want to be so tied to buying things and having things. I'm afraid of wrapping myself up in life's junk, when so many people don't have anything at all, and so many ministries need resources, and so many of God's servants need support. I don't want to wrap my heart around things.

But in my headlong, breakneck, out of control budgeting and giving and planning and saving... I've wrapped my heart more effectively around "money" than I ever could have just by spending. Trying to stop stuff from consuming me, I'm consumed by the act of stopping it. I think more about paychecks, hours, what I'm not buying, what I need to save, and where I should give, than I think about anything else. Stuff, and the lack of it, is taking over my mind and heart and life.

This is absurd! All I wanted to do was to live outside this ridiculous bubble of buying and buying and hoarding and needing, but instead I've buried myself deeper into it than any one I know.

I do want to use my money responsibly, and I do not want to buy things that I don't need or that are extravagant, and I don't want to waste the resources of a job and steady income that God has blessed me with, especially when so many people are without either. How do I use my money responsibly, though, without the responsibility itself consuming me? God doesn't want me to center my life around stuff, but he also doesn't want me to center my life around the avoidance of stuff.

To live within my means, but not to dwell on it - to give generously, without fear of running out - to work diligently, but without obsessing about paychecks - to buy only what I need, but once I've made the decision that I need it, to buy without guilt. Work hard, budget wisely, give radically, and then - forget about it! And live a real life that is about loving God and loving people, not defined by what I have - or do not have.

All in Your Head

More thoughts of work and sanctification.

When I work ten hours instead of six hours, the difference isn't working the actual four hours more, it's thinking about working the extra four hours. It's not hard to work from noon to four, but at nine there is a huge difference in my mind between staying for three more hours, and staying for seven more hours.

I guess that this is what makes Chinese water torture effective. It's not what's happening, it's what you think about what's happening.

So God says "whatever you do, whether you eat or drink, do it all for the glory of God," and "whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." This eliminates the pain of thinking about work, and just leaves the work, which usually isn't that bad.

Bathrobe Meditations

I feel like I spend a lot of time praying that God will "use" me. I am always asking that I will be a light at my work, in my classes, and in my friendships, and praying that God will make me useful for His kingdom. It's easy for me to ask to be a helping hand or a word of encouragment when my friends are struggling. In classes, I want to show my professors that Christians not only think well, but also love well. I want to be ready when people ask for an explanation for the hope that they see in me.

I don't remember the last time I prayed that God would destroy me.

Could I ever walk into my job, and instead of looking for a place to be a light, look for a place to not exist - for a place to sacrifice myself and my ego and to live for others? Have I ever asked God to kill me when I go to school, that I will live not for my own accomplishments (including Christian ones) but be blind to my own self-interest and even identity? Could I ever ask God to annihilate my "self" and leave nothing behind but ashes? Have I ever asked to be crucified with Christ, so that I no longer live, but Christ lives in me?

It's so easy to ask for success! It's even easier when I hide a prayer for my success under a mask of "Your kingdom come." The mask doesn't last long, because as soon as I try to pray for death and failure - in the name of God's glory - I am not a "holy saint" any more, with only the best interests of my classmates and coworkers, but a shying, hiding, reluctant Pharisee who will do any job or any service so long as he gets the credit.

I have been crucified with Christ! And I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.