Trying to Downsize?

A friend who is 85+ years old says, “I have enjoyed all my stuff. Now I can easily give most of it away so someone else can enjoy it.”

On the idea of our stuff and what to do with it, Jesus said not to make treasures of anything that can rot, rust or be stolen by thieves. Paul wrote much the same idea:

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:1–4)

Many interpret this that Christians should give away all our possessions and live frugally. I don’t see it quite like that. His words are about my heart and what I seek or treasure, not what I keep and use. However, this is not an easy line to walk. We live in a world full of stuff, much of which no one needs, yet the focus on stuff has made us a nation of consumers. The warning is to people who seldom or never think of eternal things.

This week, people in Greece jumped into the sea to escape the fire that incinerated all their possession and even family members. Some will thank God they are still alive. Others will shake their fist at Him because of all that stuff that was taken away.

As I get older, I’ve noticed an erosion of my sense of possession. Like my octogenarian friend, I don’t care about most of my stuff like I used to. The organizing experts tell you to ‘keep only what you love’ and if I did that, my house would be mostly empty. I am happy to give it away since I will be gone one day and someone else will have it, so why not now?

Yet walking in this world with a loose hand is not easy. I’ve had a long habit of valuing what I possess. Most of it does not wear out quickly and I’ve only been robbed once. Someone took an ice cream pail full of clothespins from my backyard. I was annoyed for years!

Now God is helping me take delight in passing things on, at least those things I don’t need anymore. Doing it earlier was not as easy.

Tozer points to Moses who made a choice earlier in his life. It was partly about stuff like wealth and power vs. the other choice — the uncertainty of following a God who rarely lets us see beyond the next step:

“By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.” (Hebrews 11:24–26)

The world would think Moses a fool, but as Tozer says, the surrender of my heart to materialistic values and to my stuff is a greater calamity than having it all and losing it. I am a child of God and recreated for a higher world, a heavenly place. The ways of this world and its stuff will pass and be gone forever. How sad to pin my hopes on or make my treasure from things that which will not last. Cash, comforts and conveniences are okay to have, but I cannot make them my reason for living.

^^^^^^^^^

Jesus, I feel like the awkward teenage gangling through a growth spurt. I’m in this world but not of it, making spiritual matters a priority rather than anything else. I know this should have been a stronger part of life a long time ago, yet if it takes aging and hindsight to do it, that is better than heading toward the next world trying to pull a U-Haul with me.

Sorting out values

Randy Alcorn wrote several books about the principle of giving. This principle includes statements such as “you cannot out-give God” and “you cannot take it with you, but you can send it on ahead.” He emphasizes the folly of making worldly possessions our focus because all of them eventually wind up in the dump. 

Paul also had much to say about human value systems. When he wrote Philippians, his focus was on status, popularity, public opinion, and the confidence he once had in his spirituality and religious background. As a follower of Jesus Christ, he gave up all allegiance to those values, even considering them as trash for the dump, because he had a new and far better goal.

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:8–14)

Paul once lived a “righteous” life in his own eyes and the eyes of his peers. However, after an encounter with Christ, he realized that all his “goodness” was nothing in the eyes of God. He humbly accepted the righteousness that God gives through faith and began a new life. 

When Paul wrote the above words, he had been following Jesus for many years, but all that time his goal had not changed. He pressed on to be more like Jesus, seeing this as the most important goal and Christ as his most important possession. 

Both Alcorn and Paul had problems and trials. Alcorn tells of being on the wrong side of a lawsuit that threatened his livelihood. Paul wrote Philippians while in jail. Both men realized that an important aspect of being entirely dedicated to serving God, no matter what happened to them. Both understood that knowing Christ means learning how to deal with the past, including mistakes made and other trials outside our control. 

Paul’s life was filled with trouble. He implies that he also made mistakes after being saved and calls himself the chief of sinners. This fits with the experience of all Christians. We make errors in judgment and might even commit sinful acts with far-reaching consequences. Put in Alcorn’s financial terms, we make bad investments and sometimes useless and stupid purchases. Mistakes and stumbling are part of our battle against sin. What we do after we experience these reverses should be distinctly Christian. 

Today’s devotional reading sums up this passage of Scripture with wise counsel about mistakes. It says that I cannot move ahead by simply regretting my irreparable past. All that happens to me makes me who I am, and God wants me to make the best of what I am, not try to cover it over or make excuses for it. 

Neither can I balk at moving ahead by complaining that I blew it, or that am not trained well enough, or that I don’t have the right abilities, or that I don’t have enough money, or live in the right place. What and where I am is God’s providential arrangement — His doing. While I am responsible for my “life’s series of mistakes” and false steps, God’s hand is there. The devotional writer says that the best Christians are not those who makes the fewest false steps, but those who win victories by the “retrieval” of those mistakes, learning from them how to be more like Jesus. 

Alcorn writes about his financial fiasco and how God used it to make him a deeply generous man. Paul writes about his desire for status, outward appearance, and performing perfectly before a critical world and how God used that to teach him the fading value of personal prestige. Like money and possessions, it too will fade away when we leave this place. What is valued by the world around me and what I once valued is of no account. The only thing that will last forever is pressing on toward the goal of being like Jesus.

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Lord, I’m thankful that You promise to work all things in my life together toward that goal. Being like Jesus is a worthy goal that will not fade away or wind up in the dump when I die. Instead, that goal will be reached and completely fulfilled when I see You face to face.

I am rich

In the early seventies when I met Jesus, I was living on a farm that my first husband had signed over to me rather than pay support after our divorce. It was a good deal in the long run, but on the short term, those were lean days.

My children remember eating a lot of macaroni and cheese, not the boxed kind (it was too expensive); I made it from scratch. Each week my parents went to the city for groceries. I gave them my list and the pitiful amount of money that I could afford. They respected my efforts, but added a few extra items out of their pocket.

One year I bought a hunting licence. I didn’t hunt or even have a gun, but my neighbor did, and I knew about a leaking granary where a herd of deer had lunch every day. That winter, we had grain-fed venison in our freezer. The rest of the time, it was pretty much a hand to mouth life.

After Christ came into my life, I was still poor. I remarried, and my new husband was in debt. We used cardboard boxes for night tables and stayed thin because we didn’t have enough food to become fat. All things stayed lean for several years.

Then my husband met Christ. We were living in California at the time, and fortunate enough to attend Grace Community Church and sit under the teaching of John MacArthur. My husband learned about tithing and in faith began to give 10 percent of his gross wages. Logically, it makes no sense to give away money when you don’t have enough, but that is when the raises started. Each time my husband increased his giving, his employer raised his salary. This was in the early 80s.

Now, nearly thirty years later, we find ourselves financially blessed and easily able to share what we have. We got rid of those cardboard boxes a long time ago. In fact, we gave away their replacements (and the rest of the bedroom furniture that went with them) to our grandson last year. Our freezer is full and every day we thank God for taking care of us with such abundance.

I know that this is not always the way. Some Christians in some parts of the world do not have two cars and a nice home. Some Christians live in fear for their lives as well. I also know that Satan tempted Jesus with the “things of the world” so my heart is in constant danger of being swept away by the “cares and riches of this world.” Money can ruin loyalty to the Lord

Would I be happy with less? I’ve thought about that as I pack up boxes of things that we no longer use or need so they can be given to someone who does need them. My answer is yes. Back in those days of having almost nothing, the joy of the Lord was in my heart. He gives happiness. Possessions might do that for a time, but it never lasts. The excitement of “new” quickly fades. The joy of Jesus is always with me.

This morning’s reading reminds me of the blessedness of God’s care, not that He promises abundance, but when a person’s heart is right with Him, He gives us contentment. Psalm 37:16 says, “A little that a righteous man has is better than the riches of many wicked.” I agree. I’ve been happy with little. It isn’t the stuff that makes me happy; it is the Giver.

Not only that, stuff does not last. Those first night tables that we were finally able to afford are no longer ours. Other things have worn out, or become obsolete. Things can be stolen, or ruined by one thing or another. The riches of this world fly away.

But I notice a promise from God a couple of verses later. Psalm 37:18 says, “The Lord knows the days of the upright, and their inheritance shall be forever.”

This inheritance is not physical property or bankable bucks. It is eternal life, and includes the promise that all my needs will be most gloriously met. With Jesus, there will be no more sorrow, pain or tears.

There will also be no more ads and flyers, consumer surveys, bills to pay, cars to upkeep, or furniture to dust. I won’t have to rent a carpet steamer or haul the vacuum cleaner up and down stairs. I also will not need to stack anything in a corner because the bookshelf is too full.

The “little” that I have here is just that; little compared to the riches of glory. The things that I have here will fade, rust, pass on to someone else, but the inheritance I receive — because Jesus died — will always be mine. For this, I am most thankful.

God bless this mess?

Yesterday was literally a day of rest. I didn’t do anything other than attending church, making and eating lunch and supper, lounging in an easy chair and reading and watching a hockey game. It had an interesting effect. When I came into my studio this morning after not being in it for an entire day, what I normally don’t notice (because I see it all the time) suddenly stood out. What a clutter of stuff!

My first resolve is to toss half of it and get the remainder into some resemblance of order. If this is a reflection of my life, I’m a total disaster. I know ‘creativity’ can be messy, but this is beyond excuse. I’ve too much crammed into this room.

Today’s reading from God is Enough talks about the tribe of Levi in the Old Testament which happens to coincide with today’s read-the-Bible-in-a-year passages. When God instructed Joshua to divide up the land, Joshua 13:33 says, “But to the tribe of Levi Moses had given no inheritance; the Lord God of Israel was their inheritance, as He had said to them.”

The devotional author writes of how amazing this is—having God as their inheritance. The other tribes received land, but the Levites were content to go without any other possessions but God. It is like Paul’s description of himself and those who ministered with him in 2 Corinthians 6:10: They were “always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.” They possessed Christ and that was enough.

Compared to Christ, what is all this stuff worth? Eventually “moth and rust” or the corruption of time and decay will level it, if thieves or something else doesn’t get to it first (Matthew 6:19-20). Stuff doesn’t last, but even if it did, I cannot take it with me. When I die, who will it belong to after me? And do I, or will I, care?

The devotional wisely points out another snare: “When our hands are full of our own things, we cannot possibly get possession of the things of God.” Stuff is a distraction. I came through my upbringing with the idea that if I own something, I am responsible for using it wisely. If I cannot do that, then it should belong to someone who will. If possessions become dust collectors, then I’m not being wise with what I have. I can smell the dust in my studio, but besides that, I feel the pressure of having it and not using it.

The rest of the house is not like that. My granddaughter ‘accuses’ me of being the cleanest person she has ever known. While I don’t think that of myself, and our decor is not minimalist, we are working on clearing all unneeded or unused items from kitchens to closets. I feel great freedom in uncluttered spaces.

Another danger of stuff is glorying in my possessions. The devotional writer believes that until we have been deprived of them, our human nature is so constituted that we cannot help glorying in them. This applies to more than physical possessions. That writer gives the example that as long as a Christian feels wise or strong or rich in spiritual things, that Christian will almost inevitably glory in his strength, wisdom, or riches.

This is why God warned Jeremiah, “Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, let not the mighty man glory in his might, nor let the rich man glory in his riches; but let him who glories glory in this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the Lord, exercising lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth. For in these I delight” (Jeremiah 9:23-24).

The devotional ends by saying that if our stuff is taken away from us, we will be driven to glory in the Lord alone simply because there will be nothing else for us to glory in, but I’m thinking that the Lord would far rather we choose Him as our source of delight, not be forced into it. He isn’t against me possessing things as long as those things don’t possess me.

While I could be making excuses, I can think of one reason why I’ve not cleared the clutter. I can sit in this messy space reading Scripture and glorying in my Creator to the point that I don’t notice the mess. I’m thinking about God, not my abused filing system, the piles of paper on the desk, or the overflow of books and fabric and art supplies and electronic gizmos. All of it fades into the background in light of the wonder of my God. Nevertheless, this is likely just an excuse because I cannot pray in this room. I’m too distracted. I have to get out of here and go outside or somewhere else.

So all of this has a practical application. Besides glorying in the Lord today (and certainly not all this stuff), I’m convinced that He is telling me that it is time to clear the clutter. In the back of my mind I’m also thinking that He created the universe out of nothing—so who knows what creativity could come out of this space if it were much closer to ‘nothing’ than being so full of everything? I want to find out.