It Creeps Up on You

Saturday night our friends invited us over for what my girlfriend called “The Last Supper.”  This involved takeout from Buca di Beppo (supplemented by some gluten free pasta and sauce for Tom and Sydney).  The food was yummy, copious and very much appreciated.  My friend, Janet, is getting ready to go on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic, so after dinner, we went through her packing list, and fired up by my Fasting from Excess fervor, we debated how many shoes, which clothes, which medicines and personal hygiene goodies to bring, and which bag to stuff it all in.  She showed me her suitcase options and the quite largish rolling duffel she was planning on bringing.  I helpfully pointed out that her packing list said “one medium bag” and “one carry on”, not “one giant rolling duffel bag.”  Having traveled heavy to Ukraine when we adopted Tasha, I know of what I speak when you are getting on and off of various modes of transportation, in and out of hotels, at airports, etc.  And, as for the lovely Christians she is traveling with, they will all be in the same boat, so she can’t really count on them helping schlep her baggage around, no matter how nice they are.

She told me I could use two examples of excess uncovered during the packing exercise last night.  First, our friends have a closet, dubbed “the shoe closet,” that is one of those open-at-your-own-peril deals.  It is filled with shoes on the floor, approximately 24 inches deep, plus hanging bags with more shoes.  Though we do not have a dedicated shoe closet in our house, I suspect that if we took the time to make one, it would look the same way.  It reminded me a little bit of our now defunct deep freeze – last-in-first-out, with the shoes on the bottom never to be seen again.  Of course all kids present thought it was a terrible idea to go through them and give them away (that would involve work followed by saying bye-bye).

When we were going through some medicines figuring out what would be good to bring along to the DR, she handed me 3 half-full tubes of Neosporin with instructions to pick one for her to bring.  I figured the newest, freshest tube would be best to bring in case of owies in the DR.  I decided on one criterium:  newest one goes.  But there was a teensy little problem.  One expired 2 years ago, one expired 4 years, and one expired 11 years ago. 

After we had our chuckles, something hit me.  This excess thing, it creeps up on you. 

I don’t know that there are a whole lot of people who set out to have 3 partial tubes of expired antibiotic ointment in their cabinets.  Admittedly, it’s a blessing that they didn’t burn through more Neosporin than that in the last 11 years with two active kids, but still. I don’t know that there are a whole lot of people who set out to have 8 cubic feet of shoes piled into a closet.  Or 62 unmatched socks.  Or a deep freeze half full of frozen food.

Our excess, it just creeps right on up, unused, unnoticed, unappreciated by us, and completely unusable by anyone else.  I think I’ve probably come up with every in-the-moment reason in the book to justify purchasing:  not sure if I have it, not sure where it is, not sure if it’s good anymore, might need more, someone is begging me for it, looks like a good price, if we have some more would be even better, and so on and on.

It’s silly, maybe, to glom onto 3 old tubes of Neosporin to make my point, but it’s a clear example of how we buy because we can, then we forget, and we buy some more.  It’s self-interest run amok, and good stewardship run aground.

In Luke 12:15, Jesus said:

“Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”

I like the phrase “does not consist in”.  It doesn’t say “does not consist of”.  If life doesn’t consist in something, it sounds like it has nothing to do with an abundance of possessions.

Food month is underway.  I will fill you in on the first few days of our food month tomorrow.