Shopping for Value

I’ve always liked to shop.  The artfully arranged displays, colors folded into precise geometric shapes, and the assortment of curated merchandise make me feel hopeful.  Hope that I could be more attractive.  Hope that I would be enough.  Hope that having something was the same as having it all together.  Unlike the price tag, the promise of such things wasn’t explicit.  It was in the garments hung in rainbow-colored order, the soft lighting, the scent of a lit candle, and melodic music that lulled me into thinking I wasn’t just purchasing a shirt but an assurance of a better life.

It’s as if my potential couldn’t be fulfilled until I owned the right things.  Shopping was like being sent to wardrobe for a starring role in life – exciting, full of promise, and redemptive.  It was an escape from whoever I was for a chance to discover who I could be.  And, clearly, who I could be was better.

Intellectually, I know this falls somewhere between silly and sad.  We come into the world with nakedness and nothing.  Yet, still, our inherent value compels someone to pick us up and hold us close.  As babies, we don’t care how we look or what we wear.  We don’t question our worth.  We know we matter.  “I praise you, because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self you know,” (Psalms 139:14).  We have this instinct that tells us we deserve nourishment, warmth, and love.  We demand these things with cries, cooing smiles, and outstretched arms.  For most of us, our needs were met.  We were loved and we were enough.

I don’t know how we are born with such a knowing only for it to get all twisty and tangled.  I just know for most of us, it gets twisty and tangled.  What was once smooth becomes matted into muddled thinking of what constitutes value.  The prettiest clothes, the right weight, the tidy house, the well-behaved children, the doting spouse, the big paycheck, the esteemed title, all become measures offering the same distorted reflection of value as a fun-house mirror.

If we aren’t careful, we confuse who we are with our intellect, possessions, or worldly recognition.  We consider our constructs more than the constancy of our soul’s predetermined and unalterable value.  I suppose in life’s messiness, in all that remains unmet, we seek out instead of seeking him.  As challenging as it may be sometimes to find the perfect pair of jeans, that can still seem less ambitious than finding this elusive God of ours.  Yet, happiness has never been in the having; knowing has never been in the intellect; God will never be in the material and love will never be owned.

All of the assurance we ever need comes from the love of God.  Unlike the perfect outfit, it’s been there all along.  All we have to do is put it on.

May you wear it well.

Hi all,

I always feel like there are so many things I want to tell you in this little section that it is often the hardest thing I write. Like, I want to ask you if you notice that I am not posting as much or being as active on social media — but then I think, hmm, maybe they don’t!  Maybe I should just keep quiet about that.

Then, I think of telling you that I have been in a discerning mode for the last several months but that isn’t quite the best way to describe it. It’s more peaceful than discerning tends to be and I think I may actually be getting the hang of this letting God’s will be done thing. Life really is much simpler when we surrender to His will.

But then I think, oh dear, does that sound like I have everything figured out and I have left Christianity to simply be like Buddha and his big fat belly and just be? No, nothing is really that simple. (Except maybe growing big bellies!) Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you and be candid even if I’m momentarily incapable of being clear. In short, I am here less and with Him more. And, I am good. I remain as grateful as ever to share this faith journey with you.  Love ~ Lara

 

Below the Surface: Going Deep for God

I was in an existential funk questioning my purpose, God’s plan for me, and the universality of suffering.  Someone suggested as a solution that  I should be more shallow.  While I understood the spirit of love in which it was made, it was a funny thing to hear.

Besides, I’ve tried.  I’ve wrapped my self in the superficial that society hawks.  But when my closet starts to cram contents together, I am more interested in streamlining than another sale.

I am always telling my boys when they ask to buy something (that they already own four of) that it’s not going to fill them. I tell them God is the only one who can do that.  Of course, this does little to discourage their desires.  Still, I hope the message eventually settles in.

There’s nothing wrong with having nice things, enjoying a good sale, or a great pair of shoes, but the joy it brings is superficial, unsustainable, and nothing like the satisfaction we get from a relationship with God.  Thinking about the work of mercy to clothe the naked, it seems almost archaic considering the number of clothes we all own.  I recently visited several thrift stores for an outfit for an upcoming 80s fundraiser, and I was struck by the volume of clothes in these warehouse-size buildings.  It was astounding.  And while I understand that there are many areas in which this work of mercy still applies, such as a woman fleeing an abusive relationship, families who lose everything in natural disasters, poor families who can’t afford to replace their children’s outgrown clothes, and the homeless who lack proper shoes or jackets, I can’t help but think of clothing the naked on a deeper level. Read more