Finally! The weather and my work schedule has co-operated enough to allow me some clean up time at the house! I am afraid that it is only a “lick and a promise” though (as my mom would say). The bathrooms are clean and I’ve wiped all the counters, but I really would like to get in deep and give all the rooms a good make over. I am beginning to look around and say “wow…we have a lot of “stuff”!” As I try to live a little more “green”, I am beginning to see just how much we have accumulated over the years. We have been blessed enough to be able to buy what we want… and we have. I have a lot of high hopes for things… projects and crafts I want to tackle, furniture I want to refinish, new things I want to learn, and often I can’t say no to a great deal at the thrift store! Time and energy simply get the better of me and my best laid plans get pushed aside to the back of the basement… again. I sound like those hoarders on the documentaries… I wanted to, but just didn’t. Then somehow the piles begin to take over.
The truth is, most of our society has become this way hasn’t it? We always are dreaming bigger, wanting more, and pushing the limits. Even the minimalists are driving forward with their agenda of quality not quantity. My friend describes it as the “new piety”. If I live this way with these things, then you should too…and if you don’t, then you are doing it wrong. If this lifestyle, or this diet, or this gadget, or this, or that, is the way I like, then it must be the best for everyone. And so we must accept it. But how much is too much? Somewhere along the line we have lost balance. Myself included.
I tend to be an all or nothing kinda gal… ask my friends… I love a good project. A task that I can focus all my attention on. Therein lies the problem, though… it takes all my attention. The rest of the world begins to fall down all around me but my blinders prevent me from seeing it. I think I’m not the only one with such tunnel vision, though. So much of our world is “micro-managed” with minority groups driving home very specific opinions on very specific topics. Even our careers and educational paths have taken on this micro vision. Health care, too, has become so finite. We see one specialist for one problem and then have to see three others for the side effects. It can be a little frustrating. We become “specialists”– but masters of nothing.
We recently saw a film called “The Biggest Little Farm“… a documentary that followed a Californian couple who gave up their city life to try their hand at a new wave of farming. (I think the hubby suggested it to tame my want for chickens…which didn’t work, but I digress). Under capable (yet slightly radical) mentorship, they decided to diversify their farm. They planted a variety of fruit trees instead of one crop, and varied their livestock to share in the load. The idea was balance. Their mentor assured them, that in time, the land itself would balance out, that their farm would flourish with the ebb and flow of predator and prey and nutrient renewal. Science tells us this is true, yet, I couldn’t help but muse how spiritual the message was. We are just finishing a study of the gospel of Mark in our small group. It’s fascinating to me how the gospels show us this idea of Jesus’ perfect balance between a focused plan and the bigger picture.
Christ, the messiah, knew He was coming to earth to fulfill a very specific purpose. He had a goal. A set task. Yet in the height of His ministry he still was conscious that He needed to take time aside for self care, reflection and prayer. He healed many, yet not all. He planned for the future, but often didn’t know where He would sleep at night. He had no means of salary, but never seemed to go hungry. He surrounded Himself with both women and men, with rich and poor, with educated and outcasts. There was no false piety, there was simply a message. Jesus didn’t promise that His way was the easiest, either. Being a Jesus follower did not guarantee the easy road, nor does it now. But it does bring profound hope.
I think, it is this hope that we are all struggling to fill with our stuff, our visions, our drive for the ultimate. We want our futures to be sealed with security. I too, struggle with the future unknown. I’m always looking for something new… “just in case”. That’s the delight of the faith journey though… it’s a journey. A continual path to Heaven that starts when we take the first step out in faith. It then becomes a winding path of checks and balances, but ever encompasses that Hope that guides us onward. So how much is too much? When we become so blinded by all the stuff that we can’t see the forest for the trees. When we begin to lose hope because we have not taken the time to get back on the right path, or the path is blocked by a narrowly focused tunnel. We need a little mix of all to keep the balance. I’m not there yet, either, but learning… anyone need some glass jars? I think I have too many…
By the time you read this post, Mother’s Day (in Canada at least) will be over and the flower shops and restaurants will be filling their coffers with yet another year’s profits. Teachers will be breathing a sigh of relief that their entire class of 27 six-year-olds managed not to kill off their forget-me-nots, which were sent home on Friday, delicately blooming in hand-painted pots destined for moms and grandmothers. The “mommy-I made-it-all-by-myself breakfasts in bed” kitchens will once again be tidy and neat and the dose of antacid tablets will be taken to settle the fact that you actually ate that “mommy-I-made-it-all-by-myself” breakfast. *gag* The moms will smile and wink at the dads who managed a card and who dressed the kids for church and dinner so you could get two more full seconds of sleep on this “special day” (Trust me… little girl tights are not something dads should handle). Oh… but friends, I promise you this: We loved every minute of it!
held those beloveds in our arms for the very first time. According to some early-stage scientific research, we have things called “u-opioids” that are released in our brains when we are socially connected to someone… specifically our mothers. It’s that whole bonding/proper imprinting thing that is exemplified by those little ducklings illustrated in classic children’s books. Moms make us feel warm and fuzzy — so we connect — and are now willing to follow them into the water even though we have never swam with our newly hatched tail feathers before. It’s already pre-wired in our brains. (Reminds me of that post about chocolate. In case you missed it, you can read about that 
mittonmusings 