The Right Stuff

I bought another planner today.

And by 'another', I don't mean my other one ran out and I had to get a new one; I mean there is still a month until school starts and I've bought three planners trying to find the perfect one. One had sweet "word of the day" features and quotes from books, but no monthly spreads. The second had the layout, but was perfect bound. The newest one is just right: fun colors, monthly spreads, spiral bound, even little tabs so you know what month you're looking at. It's exactly what I wanted.

But for some unknown reason I kept buying ones I wasn't even sure I wanted. I settled. I decided it was good enough, even though it didn't meet all my requirements.

Why do I do that? I've wasted more money on things I didn't really want just because I convinced myself that it was the best I could get. That's just ridiculous. So I open up the planner and I see this quote, front and center:

"One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes." - Eleanor Roosevelt

I sighed when I read that, because that is me in a nutshell. I never realized it until now, but I am a materialistic person. I have to have just the right stuff or I don't feel right. I can't just by 35-cent primary colored folders, I want the cute designed ones. I don't wear white socks, all mine are patterned. Come to think of it, I really don't own things that are boring. Even things no one gives a flying fig about I am particular with. I get colored q-tips because the look better. I am skeptical of anything that comes in poorly designed packaging.

When did I become such a snob?

I realized a few months ago that I am the type of person who literally judges books by their cover. If it has a unique picture or design and well-placed type, I will look at it. A book with a poorly taken photo of the author and generic centered type? Not interested. Even worse, I judge by the title. Books with titles like "The Darkest Hour" push me away. Titles like that are a dime a dozen. I once bought and read a book just because it was titled "The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse". Fantastic title, crappy book. I learned my lesson.

The thing is, I know intellectually that you shouldn't judge things on the way they look. But do I believe it? I buy things because they look a certain way and therefore I look a certain way. Wesleigh's cool, she has a tote bag with spoons on it! Who cares?? It's just stuff.

But it's not just stuff, it's my stuff. An extension of me. It's who I am.

It's who I am. I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth. I had no idea that I defined so much of myself on what I owned.

I don't want to be the kind of person who judges things on appearances and defines myself with material things. There is more to me than what operating system my computer runs on or what brand of shoes I wear. I know that then to look at other people and snap to conclusions based on their belongings. And yet somehow I seem to think that if I don't have the right stuff I'll be looked down upon.

I am just like that rich man in the New Testament that Jesus talks to. He comes before Christ and asks, "Good teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus tells him to obey the commandments and he replies that he has. So Jesus tells him to sell his possessions and give everything to the poor, his treasure is in heaven. And then it says, in Luke 18, "But when the man heard this, he became very sad, since he was very rich (v. 23)." Jesus knew the guy was attached to his property and asked him to give up useless things for something much better. Unfortunately the man was so preoccupied with the status his stuff gave him that he couldn't even give it up in exchange for eternal life.

I don't like to admit it, but there are days when I would, like the rich man, turn away and never look back. It's easier to be materialistic than give it all up for Christ. Just look at the man in Luke. He could have endured some hardship, given up his wealth, and gained everything; but instead he did what was comfortable and looked cool and as a result no one even knows what his name was.

Maybe this is a wake-call. That I need to get out of what is comfortable. Raise the level of risk.