Sucking death

"Shift your heart and mind as it concerns stewardship. Rather than thinking, What of my stuff should I give back to God? I invite you to think, Everything I own belongs to God." -Eugene Cho, Overrated

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There's a paradigm shift happening in me. I'm not going to lie: it sucks sometimes. It sucks what feels like life right out of me. But the truth is, it's sucking the death out of me and bringing me back to life. But it hurts, much like Eustace's dragon skin coming off, it hurts. It pains me when I can't buy my son an ice cream cone, or when I just want to get out of the house but know if I go anywhere it will cost me money. When the selfish thoughts come and say, "You deserve a dishwasher," sometimes I don't silence them right away. Sometimes I listen, and the more I do, the more I breathe death rather than life.

Am I being too dramatic? Too overspiritual? Just stop reading if you think so. Because for me, life is heart, soul, mind, and strength. Which means there's a piece of each of those in all we do, and they all intertwine.

So even my desire for a nicer kitchen can (and is) corrupt. Why? Because I desire it for no other reason than to have a nicer kitchen! Everyone else around me does. So why can't I have one? When you break that down, it sounds like a little toddler tantrum that I'm shouting at my Father about, doesn't it? "We choose sin because we want to be alive," says the executive pastor at my church Teri Furr. Yes, we believe the lie that sin will make us more alive. Look at Eve. Look at the Garden. The temptation was to be more alive. "You will not surely die," the serpent says. But we were born with death in us, and if we don't actively fight that death, we follow it to perdition. "We choose gossip because there's something dead in us," says Teri. Yes, and I choose to compare for the same reason. Instead of thinking this house is beautiful, this house is sufficient, this house is enough as it is. I say, this house is nice, but it has so much potential. Just imagine it with a staircase where that wall is, with a new kitchen, with a dishwasher, with an organized laundry room. Sometimes our imaginations are the prosperity gospel and we don't even realize it. We have to cast down those vain imaginations. It's not that we don't know how to dream; it's that we don't want to align our dreams to His kingdom come. Because that means we have to do what Cho said. We have to start looking at all of our stuff as if it were His. We have to stop seeing it as ours. We have to stop possessing it.

And we must start to see things as tools for His kingdom rather than just things. When you use social media as a tool for a greater purpose (like staying in touch with friends who are far away or promoting a cause, etc.) it can bring more abundance to life. But the moment it stops being a tool and starts being a necessity to life is the moment its grabbed the heart. The same goes for our things. "We all like toys, cards, stuff, and gadgets. I don't want to knock it and say that we can't enjoy life, but at what point do we say, 'Enough is enough'?" says Cho again in Overrated.

God raises the dead in us. Which means he desires us to not be dead. Duh, right? Well, when Teri spoke on this topic last week it sunk in my heart because of the realization that our weak flesh loves death. Our weak flesh loves death. My flesh daily likes to compare my life to others: death. My flesh likes to convince me that what is death is life. My flesh likes to remind me of my accolades and tells me I deserve more than I have: death. My flesh likes to tell me that when I have an issue with someone else to just not talk to them: death. My spirit reminds me that humble conflict can bring restoration, that salvation was gained by nothing I did, that abundant life comes by quickly killing the death in me. My spirit reminds me of Galatians 6:4-5:

Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life. (MSG)

Isn't it ironic, yes a little too ironic that the missionary wife who lived in a house for over four years with a kitchen that was merely a frig, a stove, a sink, and a table has been struggling the whole time she's been living in her state-side house with her kitchen that has much more than that house had. Yes. Dios mio, enough is enough.