Too Poor to Sleep

It’s 5:00 in the morning and I am at work. I remembered that I was scheduled to come in at 5:00 at some point in the coming days, but I couldn’t remember hen, so I called and they said this was the day. They were wrong. I’m not supposed to be in until 8:30 or 9:00, and even then I have official errands to run which would have kept me away until almost lunch time. Oh well. I can use the extra money.

But I’m one of the richest guys in the world! Seriously, that’s not delusional or metaphorical. If you take into account the population of the whole world and how most everyone else on the planet lives I’m pretty stinkin’ wealthy. But it sure doesn’t feel like it right now. I commented the other day on the irony (tragedy) that Americans are dieing from eating too much while much of the world dies from eating too little. This same dichotomy is present in our consumption of stuff too. The irony of course is that the more stuff we get to make our lives more convenient and comfortable the more we become a slave to material things. I get a new lap top, that way I can write a school paper no matter where I am at. I get a nifty cell phone, that way I’m never out of touch with work. I get a new remote control so I can sit on my butt all that much more and get fatter while I watch my giant screen t.v. that is all that much more damaging to my eyes. When I do have to force myself off the couch I get in my fancy new car; funny how much more effort and stress is required to worry about a fancy new car than a crappy old one. Whoa, diatribe.

My niece is one of the more popular girls in her school. She’s pretty, and works for hours everyday to stay that way (slave). She wears only specific brands of clothes, because to do anything else would cause her social status to plummet (slave). And of course she has her cell phone with her all the time because to lose contact with a supposed friend and miss any gossip will rob her of the chance be the one with the knowledge (slave). Insert lengthy quote here:

“Before the Lord God made man upon the earth He first prepared for him by creating a world of useful and pleasant things for his sustenance and delight. In the Genesis account of the creation these are called simply `things.' They were made for man's uses, but they were meant always to be external to the man and subservient to him. In the deep heart of the man was a shrine where none but God was worthy to come. Within him was God; without, a thousand gifts which God had showered upon him.
But sin has introduced complications and has made those very gifts of God a potential source of ruin to the soul.
Our woes began when God was forced out of His central shrine and `things' were allowed to enter. Within the human heart `things' have taken over. Men have now by nature no peace within their hearts, for God is crowned there no longer, but there in the moral dusk stubborn and aggressive usurpers fight among themselves for first place on the throne.
This is not a mere metaphor, but an accurate analysis of our real spiritual trouble. There is within the human heart a tough fibrous root of fallen life whose nature is to possess, always to possess. It covets `things' with a deep and fierce passion. The pronouns `my' and `mine' look innocent enough in print, but their constant and universal use is significant. They express the real nature of the old Adamic man better than a thousand volumes of theology could do. They are verbal symptoms of our deep disease. The roots of our hearts have grown down into things, and we dare not pull up one rootlet lest we die. Things have become necessary to us, a development never originally intended. God's gifts now take the place of God, and the whole course of nature is upset by the monstrous substitution.
Our Lord referred to this tyranny of things when He said to His disciples, `If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find it.' (Matt. 16:24-25).”

That was from The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer, from the chapter titled “The Blessedness of Possessing Nothing.” I wish I could live a life free of possessions. Understand what I’m saying and not saying: I’m not saying I want to give up all my stuff, I am saying I wish I were strong enough that I could want to give up all my stuff. But I like my stuff, so rather than remove the “stuff” I will try to remove the “my.” I will try to remember that I am a steward, a care taker, not an owner; this is a freeing thought-if I can do it.
He who collects the most toys—dies anyway.