For the love of God

Now and then, I’ll think of something I would buy if I was living a normal life, things that “I could really use.” I thought maybe I’d start writing a list of all these things so that next year I would remember to buy them. A friend advised me against this and the more I’ve thought about it the more I realize the absurdity of such a plan. Honestly, Missy? If I need a list to remind me to buy something in six months, then it can’t be that critical of a belonging. It’s becoming a discipline, to stop myself from thinking, “I’ll buy that next year, when I’m allowed.” That is not what this is about! I haven’t made these rules and entered into this experiment to cage my shopping habits for a year, only to let them loose with wild abandon when the time of oppression comes to an end. No! This is deeper than that. I am seeking a change of heart and attitude, a platform for a greater perspective of poverty and hopefully, therefore, solidarity with those who are less fortunate. If I cannot recognize the value in all I have, the gifts God has already bestowed upon me and their full potential, and acknowledge that no material possession will ever make me more complete, then this year of commitment to a spirit of poverty is in vain. If I do not let this transform me totally, I will have done it for nothing.

I don’t do things for nothing. +

 

Carly Simon is singin' to me

Being blessed to have grown up in a middle class society, I don't know if what I'm about to say is true. However, if I had to guess, I'd say this: the poor aren't vain. The lack of material possessions must culture a certain type of humility, because at some point, necessity must override any sense of shame or embarrassment...

I was struck by this thought last night as I was drifting to sleep (don't the best ideas come to us in that time between waking and dreams?) and it kept me awake: in this, my year of poverty (but will it only be a year?), shouldn't I also be embracing this humility - a detachment from vanity? In my limited reflections on this so far, I am led to believe it may be one of the greatest challenges I take on. It is probably the deepest-seeded issue I struggle with, but within this context of poverty, surely I can begin to weed it out and plant new seeds, ones that will flower and bear fruits I may share with others. 

And so begins the search: how can I concretely live this out? To begin, I turn to the words of  a man named Ken Blanchard, who says, "Humility does not mean you think less of yourself; it means you think of yourself less." It is that old recipe for JOY: 

Jesus

Others 

You

There it is, the greatest reminder: anything worthwhile or successful must begin with The Alpha and end with the Omega Himself. Striving, tripping, falling, but ever pushing on, I will fix my eyes on Christ. +

Coupons and deadlines

For some reason we set a goal of blog posts per month. I'm not sure why. (An effort to get me to post something maybe?) I do have several topics that are relevant to wordly want that I still have 6 more months to write about. Here is one: coupons.

Everyone loves a deal. Me especially. If someone says, what do you prefer this or that? (i.e., at the grocery or the restaurant), my instinct is to say, "whatever is on sale." Legitimate, I think, we all want to save a little money. And hey, I'm not too picky for the most part. But at some point can trying to save money become an obsession?

I have to admit that I use to spend at least an hour before going to the grocery trying to cut coupons and go to more than 1 store in one trip. Not only did it take up time, but when I would go to the store and they didn't have the item, I would get made. At some point in the recent future I decided to stop all this nonsense and cut back on my coupon 'problem.' Granted, people (me included) can save a lot of money this way, but aren't there other things in life to spend time doing? I can't put my finger on it, but I have felt released from the coupon craze - and I still can be a smart shopper!

I'm coming to the end of this blog post, but I am not sure how to end. Maybe there aren't better things in life to spend your time doing if you can save money and donate it somewhere? Or maybe we should just be donating or time...and/or be less attached to either!!

Just when you think you've made progress...

Someone took my coffee cup.

My sister, just because she had some extra points to spare on her student card, bought me an oversized coffee mug from Starbucks. This might sound ridiculous, but I’ve actually gotten a few compliments on it around the office! I really love it, and I kept it at my desk for a long time, because, well…it’s mine. I don’t want to risk the chance of it being “borrowed” and then swallowed up by someone’s messy desk.

Today, I left for lunch and wanted to wash it just before leaving. I have a shelf in the kitchen cabinets at the office that I usually keep a few things on, so I just dried it and set it there on my way out. I forgot all about it until I saw it in the hands of one of the employees – he isn’t usually in the office because he doesn’t live in Indianapolis, but works for the company from a distance, so of course he didn’t know that was my shelf that I keep my things on…and that he had taken my coffee cup. I almost said something to him as he walked by holding it…

And then I saw him take a drink.

Out of my coffee cup.

That no human’s lips had ever touched but mine.

It was like a slow motion nightmare and in my head I screamed, “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo….”

I am not kidding you – I had to stop and regain my composure. He has no idea, still, the commotion he’s caused within me, and I don’t particularly plan to tell him. I may just sneak around until he’s abandoned it and then reclaim it, hiding it deep within a drawer at my desk, only to see the light of day when I need some cinnamon tea or a cup of french vanilla coffee.

Yet for the last thirty minutes of the work day, I had to ask myself: why is this causing me such grief? It’s a coffee mug for goodness sake! And I thought I had come so far this year, in my detachment and in my purposeful poverty, and now I’ve completely lost it over a piece of porcelain.  

It’s possible this is a reflection of something deeper, some greater issue I’ve yet to overcome…yet to even discover. With six and a half months to go, I’ve got some more work to do in my heart. +

do not (pass port)-au-prince, do not collect $200

About half way from Bassin Bleu to Port-de-Paix, at the end of our trip to Haiti and homeward bound, I was handed an excellent new topic (within a gut-wrenching realization) for a blog entry. It occurred to me at that moment that I had not a clue where my passport was...or if I even had it in my possession. A frantic-ish search and memory flash later, my stomach was in knots - the passport was in my backpack which I had attempted to donate to the people of Bassin Bleu in a rush that morning. 

It seemed somewhat unfathomable that something like this could be happening (and to me!) so that none of us even became too concerned about it. Fr. Rick had a copy anyway, and it's not like we're in Europe. Still, the knots in my stomach grew as I realized I didn't particular want to part with my pretty picture or Australian stamps (and now Haitian!) but that would be my new challenge: detachment from my passport! 
A funny story for people at home...until it turns out the Haitian government won't let me through with my color copy and driver's license. I would need to go to the US embassy in Port-au-Prince the next day to obtain an emergency passport to return home. 
I gave away almost everything I brought to Haiti (I didn't even have a clean shirt to wear home!) and some article of clothing were a bit difficult to fold and leave behind. Yet, in the midst of my steps towards poverty of spirit I learned that it is entirely acceptable and even required that when in a foreign country, covet your passport! 

generosity in poverty

"The less we have, the more we give. Seems absurd, but it's the logic of love..."

                                                                       - Mother Teresa

making room for joy

Just before I moved at the beginning of the year, I realized I didn't actually have enough hangars for all of my clothes. I was just one or two short - nothing major. So I bought a 12-pack, thinking that would definitely cover me for the year. As happens, I've acquired a few new shirts here or there. However, what astounds me is that somehow I've run out of hangars again! So because I can't buy any more hangars, the logical solution to this "problem" is to get rid of some clothes!

It just so happens that in light of my upcoming trip to Haiti, I was already planning on packing clothes that would not make the return journey with me - we have been advised to leave behind as much as we can. 

I'm ashamed to say that I immediately begin thinking of the most "wretched" clothes I own, the ones I never wear or don't particularly like, and deemed those to be the clothes for the Haitians. But why? Why do they deserve the clothes I don't want, the ones that aren't as quality as the rest?

This reflection brought to mind a point Dubay makes in Happy Are You Poor: we must give out of our necessity. He points out that "Vatican Council II twice admonished the faithful that it is not enough to give from superfluities but that we are to aid the poor even from our need (GS nos. 69, 88)." 

As I stand in my closet, I have begun to consider which of my articles of clothing are practical for the climate of Haiti, and out of those, which ones I like the best. Those will be the clothes I pack for the trip and leave behind. I wouldn't say I truly need the clothes that I am particularly attached to, but in my sense of fashion, perhaps some of them appear to be an article I can't live without. I'm quite grateful for the opportunity to concretely live this call to another level of poverty. 

Without question, I know I'll have at least a little trouble with this. Yet I've been tossing around the idea of poverty being a path to purity. One source (resulting from a google search) defines purity as an adjective that means, "being undiluted or unmixed with extraneous material". Is this not a similar definition of poverty? A closer look has revealed a type of liberation that I don't often consider. Detaching myself from these clothes that I really like will put me one step closer to freeing myself from the materialism of our society. 

And this has prompted another thought: why aren't we, who have so much, happier? Maybe it's because the more we have, the greater our expectations. We place our hope in things that eventually fade away, and we are left disappointed...these things can never fill us. Could this be a root problem of the unhappiness or depression that seems so prevalent when we look around? I can't claim to have any evidence on this subject other than first-hand experience, but I would wager that research might show it to be true. 

It's often heard that people in third-world countries, people living in utter desolation, have a joy that is unparalleled in people with plenty. Doesn't this all fit together?! 

In just two weeks, I look forward to seeing (and experiencing?!) this joy for myself - may I return with enough to fill more space than my favorite clothes ever could.