I came across this article while scrolling Flipboard recently. My first thought was mean. "That's what they get. Flaunting and fronting." Then, I started thinking about my own vanities.
Even people who have opened a Bible more than a couple of times in life often incorrectly cite 1 Timothy 6:10 and claim that money is the root of all evil. The actual passage is so much deeper than that and goes like this:
the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. (my underline)
The love of money certainly caused problems for the people in that article. Their love of it and the people who were trying to steal from them. But they are people living in and for the world. What about the people claiming to be living for the Lord? You know, people like... me.
One of my favorite books is C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters. It addresses with humor so much of the seriousness of the Christian life. I love where Screwtape speaks on one of our weaknesses:
"You will find that anything or nothing is sufficient to attract his wandering attention. You no longer need a good book, which he really likes, to keep him from his prayers or his work or his sleep; a column of advertisements in yesterday’s paper will do. …You can make him do nothing at all for long periods"
See how well the adversary of humankind knows us? **
I have to remind myself quite often not to be lustful for material things and not to be distracted. It rarely works. I can wake up in the morning with every intention to remain focused on prayers and, as soon as I even glimpse an ad for the latest kitchen gadget, I'm Googling to see if it comes in the color I prefer. When I realize I've been distracted, this is how I imaging Satan celebrating:
Money causes me to lose focus on things. If I think too much about the lack of money, I forget to be thankful for all my blessings. If I think too much about any extra money I might have, I forget to be thankful. If I try too hard to figure out how I manage to eat, have clothing and a roof over my head, I forget to be thankful.
This is a little story about how my mother viewed money. (Keep in mind that she had never had a lot of money but somehow always had what she'd needed. Always.)
Once, my sister and I were going over the monthly bills, writing out checks and marking off the Paids and Not Paids. For some reason, this time I was looking at the difference in our income against the outgoing funds. I called my sister's attention to the discrepancy. We started to go back over everything and were about to tally and calculate. My mother walked past the dining room table and saw what we were doing. "Stop that," she told us. And she was using her I-mean-business voice. "Don't question your blessings like that. Just don't."
We were grown, of course, but we always listened to Mama. Later on, she told us that she had long ago stopped wondering how she did what she did with what little money she had. And what my mother had done was raise a family of 6 kids on my dad's meager G.I.'s salary. After my parents divorced, Mama still fed and clothed and took really good care of us - on very little money. By the time, my sister and I were managing the income and bills, we were three women raising 4 kids. We had a nice home in a good neighborhood. All the kids wore decent shoes and clothes and ate plentiful and healthy food. If they needed something extra for school - musical instruments or field trip fees - they got it. We had the help and support of my brothers but we did most of it by ourselves. We didn't go on a lot of vacations but my brothers took the kids to Hawaii and Disneyland and Seaworld. They got to go to carnivals and circuses and go fishing, hiking, and camping every summer.
We were blessed and none of our neighbors could ever figure out how we did it. Mama's answer was that we didn't do it but that God did. Of course, we drove the worst cars ever to run on public roads but we weren't taking the bus or walking in those Alaska winters.
Now I am not saying that God is like a genie in a bottle that grants material wishes. What I am saying is that He promises to provide our daily bread. To this day, when I don't have money for one thing extra, I am never without food. When we were raising the kids, I didn't travel a lot and we drove those raggedy cars but I never once - not eve - suffered a missed-meal cramp.
At one of my lowest points in life, I was living with an abusive spouse. I had spent every saved dime I had to pay rent and keep the utilities on. I was too proud to go to my family for help or even let them know what was happening in my life. My husband had a habit of leaving and staying gone for days. I didn't know anyone in the not-so-safe area we were living in and had no vehicle. I remember being alone for almost an entire week, sitting in a house with only a bed, a second-hand television, and a couple of Dollar General deck chairs. I had a jar of change that wouldn't amount to enough to buy a pack of hamburger meat. I smoked at the time and had 3 packs of cigarettes, some bottled water, a couple cans of soup, and a small bag of frozen mixed vegetables. I had lost so much weight that I was under what I'd weight 15 years before. I think I was hitting the scale at about 107 pounds.
I remember sitting out on the patio in one of the chairs one evening while it rained. I smoked and cried, cried and smoked, and I wondered how I got myself to such a point. I was totally out of money and knew that if my husband wasn't back before the next rent payment was due, I was done for.
The day before rent was due, I was out of bottled water (and the tap water in that part of West Texas was not healthy) on my last pack of cigarettes and had one can of soup left. The only thing I had was my cellphone which was paid because it was still on a plan my sister and I shared and she had been taking care of that bill. My husband did not come back that day so I sat on the porch that night, wondering what on earth I was going to do.
I don't remember what time it was when my phone rang but it was really late. My best friend was calling from across the state. She and I talked maybe once a month at that point because I was newly married and I guess that's how things change. When I saw her number come up, I didn't want to answer. I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to risk breaking down in tears at the sound of her voice.
She left a message and when I checked it, I did cry. She said that I had been so heavy on her mind that if I didn't call her back RIGHT NOW, she was going to contact my family and have them come find me. I called her back. I wasn't crying but she could hear something in my voice and all I said was "Hey, it's me."
Without asking questions or going into details, she told me to tell her where the nearest Walmart was. I told her. She told me to take a cab there and have them wait while I went in to pick up the money she was sending, then call her back.
I left that apartment with one piece of carry-on luggage I had. I picked up the money my friend sent and called her back. She had bought me a bus ticket because the bus station was a few minutes away but the nearest airport was an hour away. I caught a bus to where she lived in another part of Texas and she was waiting at the station. All she did was hug me, get me into the car, and to her house. She had fixed up a bedroom just for me. She put me to bed and I think I slept for two or three days. I ended up staying with my friend for about 5 months before I was strong enough to go home to my family. When God had put that woman in my life years before, he had been answering prayers I never had to pray.
Some years later, that friend and I talked a lot about how close I had come to dying. Had I not gotten away from that spouse and out of that situation, I would probably have succumbed to the sarcoidosis I didn't even know was in my system. Doctors told me later how the stress had probably caused the dormant disease to manifest so violently not long after I was back safe with family.
Every day, I thank God for looking over me. I thank Him for every bite of food I eat and for every breath I take during the day. I've made it through sickness and loss and depression. In spite of circumstances, I find myself smiling often or even laughing out loud with friends and family. That's not wealth or fame or being thin and beautiful - because I have none of the wealth and lost whatever thinness I ever had! LOL. This, folks, is God and hope and knowing that I have an eternity that will wash away every sadness I've lived with. I want everyone to have that.
So, if I'd had money before now, it would just have been too much. I needed less, I think, to appreciate anything. If I suddenly get rich now, it won't add anything to my life but stuff.
Peace
--Free
**There is an "update" of sorts to Screwtape as written by another author. The book - As One Devil to Another: A Fiendish Correspondence in the Tradition of C. S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters by Walter Hooper - is a wonderful reminder that we are and always will be under attack.
