American Glitter

What a day, what a day.

This morning, I went on a glorious walk through my neighborhood and the one adjoining. It was so beautiful. I had my little kiddos in the stroller (brought to you by craigslist, might I add) and just really took it all in. There's a bit of disconnect, though, from my neighborhood to the next. There, there are streets and streets of houses that tower over you, with their mod-art-deco styled porches and roofs with verandas and shiny new cars. The question was asked "What do these people do for a living and how can I get my husband on board?" It may have been half joking, but I wonder how serious the other half was.

I came home to a great conversation with my "trust-fund-friend" Devin. He comes from seriously a Porsche, 5-story-mansion, Clueless-esque pool family but I swear you would not know it. He borrowed his friend's mom's car to drive here from Lynchburg and dude seriously has the gnarliest neck beard I've ever seen. He had a lot to say for the "who has what" mentality. He said his parents always talked to and befriended anyone regardless of income level or car make. He said that growing up, they had so much money but no one ever knew because no one ever cared. But what stuck with me the most was his honesty. He said "I really just hate how we're just taught to buy all this stuff from cable tv to walmart. The last thing I bought myself was a pair of shoes. And I'll admit, sometimes I get that little 'American glitter' in my eye when I see something cool I want but then I think 'What's it going to really do for me? Do I even need it?' "

Remember my trip to Target the other night to buy chairs? Well, I almost spent $30 on a metal fold up table to go in between them. Somebody smack me. Seriously. I decided not to because I figured some thrift store somewhere would have them, anyway. And plus I'd broken the rule by even buying the damn chairs so I didn't want to get in deeper. While riding my bike tonight, well just what do you think I found? Why, a little ol' fold up table to go in between my sweetie pie chairs and it is currently outside, taking in it's fresh new coat of spray paint.

So here's how it all ties together: God will provide. Seriously. I know that's a stretch from those 3 paragraphs of seemingly separate thoughts. But with the houses, well, I gotta roof over my head. And the "American glitter" we get as our eyes gloss over when we see the newest cute dress in the window or a sweet new Mercedes or, hell, the new DIY magazine I wanted today at Food Lion. God is going to give us what we need and sometimes what we want. Did I need a table to go outside? No. But because of my faithfulness in not buying it (we won't talk about my lack thereof with the chairs. Oh, I already had a pair in the front yard and didn't need 2 more? Huh?), it was literally sitting on the side of the road, waiting on me. I honestly don't think God cared if I had a table or not. I think he just cared that I am aware that it all means nothing to him. He is so far beyond these "things" we spend our time with.

There's a story in the Bible where Jesus, when asked why he and his disciples don't pay taxes, catches a fish a pulls a coin out of it's mouth. Moral of the story? God is not limited to our system of exchange.

At yoga tonight, Ann walked us through frog pose.... for 5 minutes. If you know anything about this posture, you know it is seriously killer. The entire purpose of the pose is space. Space between your hips, your torso to the ground, your knees to your elbows... everything. As we stay in this posture, Ann begins to speak and says "Just when the pose starts to get difficult, that's when you know it's starting to work. You'll feel yourselves beginning to squirm, but just breath. With each breathe, focus on how far you've come and staying strong. It's about space. You can take it to your life outside these walls. The more you give up, the more space you have for things more important."

What are we holding on to? What will we just not let go of? What can we not give up? What is it that keep us frantically working towards more, more, more (only to find we enjoy it less, less, less)? If we can start letting go of things, including ideals of what will truly make us "happy", we can see how little we truly need but how blessed we are in having those things. We are more than what we own.