And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. 2 Corinthians 9:8
A couple of months ago I was made to feel that my house wasn't good enough. I offered hospitality and in return got a glaring reminder that my house is small, that my house does not have the amenities afforded by others, that my house was not comfortable. I was upset to say the least. After all, this is a house Kevin and I work hard to be able to afford and maintain, and we only wanted to give generously to our guests out of what we have.
Sure, we could have chosen to buy a house that is twice the size we need (and twice the mortgage). We could choose to buy stuff we think we need and rake up debt upon debt on credit cards. We could watch every remodeling show on HGTV and believe that we should spend thousands of dollars to make our house a showplace. But, we choose not to.
We choose to live in a house that is the right size for two people and two cats. We choose to live in a house that is one level, so if either of us has to care for it alone, we can. (Like last year when Kevin had both hips replaced). We choose to live in a house that is furnished with a conglomeration of hand-me-downs and well-worn, well-loved pieces that we've had forever. These things are part of our history apart and our history together. We choose to live in a house with carpet worn from our footsteps and kitty cat feet, worn from our work and worn from our play. We choose to live in a house with an open door, an open fridge and pantry, and arms open in welcome. We choose not to live in a house, but in a home.
This week I read a blog by Glennon Melton on her Momastery site, called "Give Me Gratitude or Give Me Debt." In the blog she addresses this same subject. Seems (if you look at the comments following the blog) that a lot a people agree we don't need to try to keep up with the Joneses. Melton takes a look at her kitchen through "perspectacles." It's something we should all do if we are to see what is truly important.
A couple of months ago I was made to feel that my house wasn't good enough. I offered hospitality and in return got a glaring reminder that my house is small, that my house does not have the amenities afforded by others, that my house was not comfortable. I was upset to say the least. After all, this is a house Kevin and I work hard to be able to afford and maintain, and we only wanted to give generously to our guests out of what we have.
Sure, we could have chosen to buy a house that is twice the size we need (and twice the mortgage). We could choose to buy stuff we think we need and rake up debt upon debt on credit cards. We could watch every remodeling show on HGTV and believe that we should spend thousands of dollars to make our house a showplace. But, we choose not to.
We choose to live in a house that is the right size for two people and two cats. We choose to live in a house that is one level, so if either of us has to care for it alone, we can. (Like last year when Kevin had both hips replaced). We choose to live in a house that is furnished with a conglomeration of hand-me-downs and well-worn, well-loved pieces that we've had forever. These things are part of our history apart and our history together. We choose to live in a house with carpet worn from our footsteps and kitty cat feet, worn from our work and worn from our play. We choose to live in a house with an open door, an open fridge and pantry, and arms open in welcome. We choose not to live in a house, but in a home.
This week I read a blog by Glennon Melton on her Momastery site, called "Give Me Gratitude or Give Me Debt." In the blog she addresses this same subject. Seems (if you look at the comments following the blog) that a lot a people agree we don't need to try to keep up with the Joneses. Melton takes a look at her kitchen through "perspectacles." It's something we should all do if we are to see what is truly important.