"Not my Moleskine!!!"

"Holy desires...increase by delay in their fulfillment; if delay causes them to fail, they were not desires." -St. Gregory the Great


In one month, ask me if I still want a new Moleskine planner...mine suffered a significant amount of water damage tonight, and well, I felt like crying. I have been somewhat dramatic and asked Julie if I could possibly bend some rules (using a dusty Border's gift card? asking for a "gift" from someone?) to obtain a new one. Like tomorrow. I am attached to this thing at the hip. (Planner = life...?) Her advice: wait a month and see how you feel. She reminded me that she has made it this far without a watch...


So, maybe I don't need it as much as I think I do...and we're back to this again.


He makes everything glorious. +

Long Story Short

Update: I've continued the trend I began in my preparations for Haiti and have started getting rid of the clothes I no longer need or want or that aren't modest. It's amazing how long the culture has kept it's grip on me! But slowly, slowly I will continue conforming to who Christ is asking me to be. He is so patient! 

So, long story short, remember the problem of no more hangars? Plenty now to go around! 

On a similar note, as a form of poverty I suppose, we've taken on a challenge for the summer, Julie and I. No A/C in our apartment. We'll make an exception if we're going to have guests (no need to drag innocent bystanders into our experiments!). If you've spent any time in central Indiana in the last month, you know there've been a few hot ones! Long story short, it's a bit rough, but as I've been saying all summer: "It's not as hot as Haiti!" 

But speaking of Haiti and no air conditioning, I realized something a few weeks after I got back. Being sort of toasty in the apartment, you don't usually want to wear much but shorts and a tank top. And that's when I realized I left almost all of my shorts in Haiti...hopefully someone is getting some good use out of them down there (although I'm generally twice the size of all the Haitians, so hopefully there's someone who can even fit into them!). So, this has been another component to the year: offering up all that the present situation (and my ambitious generosity) brings!

But long story short, my mom sneakily purchased some shorts for me. She tried to tell me that they were from her closet, a couple pairs that she "never wears anymore." Then why do they smell new, Mom? :)

Ah, but it takes me back to an earlier post: this is the charity we open ourselves up to in poverty. A charity that comes unrequested and undeserved. And that is the charity - the love - we receive from Our Lord, who is Love Himself. 

Long story short? All you need is love. +

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!