Psalm 37:21: "The wicked borrow and do not repay; but the righteous give generously."
That's the verse I kept thinking about as I was reading an article from the Wall Street Journal by Brett Arends titled, "When It's OK to Walk Away from Your Home."
The gist of Arends' article is this: If you own a home and are in "negative equity" (you owe more on your mortgage than your home is worth), you should walk away. Not only should you walk away, but you shouldn't feel guilty about it.
Arends logic? That financial institutions are money making machines. They'd turn on you on a dime if it would make them money. Corporations walk away from their debts all the time. So, quit being a sap. He writes:
Still, when it comes to the idea of walking away from debts, many people are held back by a sense of morality. They feel it's wrong to abandon their obligations. They don't want to be a deadbeat.
Your instincts, while honorable, are leading you astray.
The economy is fundamentally amoral.
Sometimes I think middle-class Americans are the only people who haven't worked this out yet. They're operating with a gallant but completely out-of-date plan of attack—like an old-fashioned cavalry with plumed hats and shining swords charging against machine guns.
Do you think your lenders would be shy about squeezing you for an extra nickel if they thought they could get away with it?
They knew what they were doing when they wrote your loan. Many were guilty of malpractice, but they pocketed good money and they've gotten away with it. And if they thought your loan was "risk free," how come they were charging you so much more than the interest on Treasury bonds?
Arends calls walking away from debt "as American as apple pie."
Well, American it may be, but is it Christian?
For me, Arends approach doesn't work for those with a biblical worldview. I just don't see Scripturally where a believer can put pragmatism or a what-works-best-for-my-money approach as their lead thinking. Rather, a desire to honor God in our finances has to be first and foremost.
But his article did raise a lot of questions for me. If a believer walks away from his debts (mortgage or otherwise), does that honor God?
Must a believer always repay his debts? Do our reasons make a difference? If we can't afford food to put on the table because of our debt, is it okay to walk away --rather than the oh-this-deal-just-doesn't-benefit-me-anymore scenario?
Or should we have taken Scripture's warning that debt was enslaving -- only going into debt (if we go into debt at all) cautiously and with money stored up to cover our debts in emergency situations?
How do we balance compassion with Scripture's exhortation to let our yes be yes and our no be no?
In the book Little Women, there's a scene where Meg, the oldest of four sisters, is about to get married. Her (very proper) Aunt March comes in the house to find Meg helping her intended, John, refasten a garland that had fallen down.
"Upon my word, here's a state of things!" cried the old lady, taking the seat of honor prepared for her, "You oughtn't to be seen till the last minute, child!"
"I'm not on show, Aunty, and no one is coming to stare at me, to criticize my dress, or count the cost of my luncheon. I'm too happy to care what anyone says or thinks, and I'm going to have my little wedding just as I like it. John dear, here's your hammer."
Mr. Brooke didn't even say, "Thank you," but as he stooped for the unromantic tool, he kissed his little bride behind the folding door, with a look that made Aunt March whisk out her pocket handkerchief, with a sudden dew in her sharp old eyes.
Later, Meg's very wealthy friend observes to her husband:
"That is the prettiest wedding I've been to for an age, Ned, and I don't see why, for there wasn't a bit of style about it."
We've talked about how to tame out-of-control wedding costs before on Boundless, but I thought Rowley brought an interesting perspective to the discussion. Her idea: the "average" wedding cost that we hear thrown around all the time isn't really "average" at all. Not only that, but believing in the "average" causes us to increase our consumption.
Rowley writes:
[T]he basis of the calculation is based only on a subset of all the weddings each year. The almost $18,000 "average" comes from TheKnot.com, a bridal Web site. According to spokesperson Melissa Bauer, the survey company Decipher polled 21,000 U.S. couples who married in 2009. All of them had registered, or "opted in," to one of a network of wedding-related sites operated by TheKnot. In other words, the sample is biased toward people who plan big weddings.
After all, in 2007, 40,000 people were married by the New York City clerk's office -- where a ceremony costs just $35.
Not only are the averages wrong, but they can affect our expectations:
Author Rebecca Mead exposed a similar data problem in her 2007 book "One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding," where she cites a $28,000 average figure from a survey conducted by Conde Nast Bridal Group magazines.
"If a bride has been told, repeatedly, that it costs nearly $28,000 to have a wedding, then she starts to think that spending $28,000 on a wedding is just one of those things a person has to do, like writing a rent check every month." Mead writes.
She continues:
Now throw in the community aspect of Web sites, and the battle to steer clear of the $18,000 wedding is nearly lost. Commiserating online with other brides-to-be on floral arrangements, DJs and videographers hardly inspires independent thinking (and budgeting). We take our consumption cues from our peers and often embellish them, writes Ron Wilcox, author of "Whatever Happened to Thrift: Why Americans Don't Save and What to Do About It."
People "tend to concentrate on idealized consumption," Wilcox explains. "We take as anchor points what people around us consume. We remember things we like and don't like and then construct an idea of what is appropriate to consume. What the memory constructs is more extravagant."
I thought the point about "idealized consumption" was a good one. No event is more surrounded by idealized daydreams than weddings. But, as Rowley continues, that idealized consumption model can not only leave us shaking our heads at the one-day expense of a wedding, but can also bleed over into our marital finances:
"You can't say, 'Well, I'll just try it once and see how it is,'" [Dan] Ariely explains. "We have to realize that the first decision we make actually matters a lot. And the second thing is to look back into our habits and say, 'How did we get into this situation that we have this many cars or this size house? Do we really value things in the way we pay for them, or was it a random starting point?'" (In other words, did it all start with an $18,000 wedding?)"
In Little Women, Meg knew what she wanted and what was important to her. Do we have that same confidence? Considering there is a mega-industry invested in our increased consumption (and even a television show where brides criticize each others' weddings), it can be hard to stand our ground with frugality.
But, I tell you, the most beautiful weddings I've ever attended are the ones where the Holy Spirit is felt -- whether they had expensive flowers, shrimp cocktails and bands or not.
As Brett Arends writes recently in a Wall Street Journalarticle on wedding costs, "People who spend more aren't more married at the end of it."
HT: Kimberly Eddy (#15 on the comments here) who reminded me that I was going to write about this article.
A while back, we received an e-mail from a Boundless reader about some of the financial articles I write:
These articles always tend to depress me. Perhaps because my husband is still in school, maybe because [Heather's] tone tends toward, "look at all that I've done right," so it makes me feel bad about all that we haven't done right.
Ouch. To be told that your articles are depressing with the hint that you are a tad too prideful as well? As I write in today's Boundlessarticle,
It took me half the afternoon and a Fudgesicle to recover.
My first reaction was not, shall we say, merciful:
At first, I felt defensive. Of course I've done some things right, I thought in righteous indignation. Would you want to take advice from someone who gave nothing to God and had more bankruptcies than Donald Trump?
But later, with the soothing effect of the chocolate, I found I could relate. Sometimes it's just easier to learn from someone else's mistakes than his successes.
So, I decided to write an article about the stuff I haven't done well financially. It's called "Mistakes I've Made."
I list three of the whoppers but, rest assured, there are others.
So give it a read and see what you think. Then, come back here and do some Christian public service. What are your whopper financial mistakes (or even your little ones)? What can I (or one of our other readers) learn from you?
John Thomas' article "The Way Home" is a nostalgic and entertaining romp through the homes he's lived in, loved and lost, since he left his parents' place many years ago. If you read it, you will probably relate to at least one of the places Thomas mentions: the nearly-falling-apart place, the living-to-close-to-the-neighbors place, the squashed-in-and-sleeping-on-the-floor place. Familiar places to one and all.
What's the point of Thomas' article? That each place, no matter how comfortable, in a way feels temporary. He muses:
Maybe I'm trying to find that home where I grew up, the last place I remember where things were simple, where I felt secure, and, I might add, where I had much less responsibility. Or, could it be that what I'm looking for can't be found here? Could it be that I'm longing for some other permanence, the Home for which God has placed a hunger in my soul, that calls to me, keeping me unsettled, dissatisfied — that place that seems always to be just beyond my reach.
"Home is ahead of me," Thomas concludes. "And it isn't another bedroom or more backyard or even fewer wheels that will make it finally the permanence I'm looking for. Rather, it will be in keeping company with Christ — the One who has prepared that place for me."
What are your best and worst home experiences? Do you feel less at home now than when you were a kid? Do you feel the restlessness Thomas describes?
Today, major provisions of the Credit Card Act go into effect.
According to the USA Today, President Obama released a statement explaining the rationale behind this legislation:
"For too long, credit card companies have had free rein to employ deceptive, unfair tactics that hit responsible consumers with unreasonable costs. But today, we are shifting the balance of power back to the consumer and we are holding the credit card companies accountable."
Hmmm. To me, the power is always in the customer's hand if you pay off your balance every month. But let's see some of the major provisions and the possible "gotchas" of each one.
Increased interest rates apply only to new charges: The purpose of this was to avoid the "So, you charged $5,000 thinking your rate would stay at 2%? Guess what? We're upping it to 29%" play. Under the new law, the old balance stays at the old rate and only new charges with the new rate. But the rates can go up if ... (you knew there was an "if", right?) your credit card is a "variable rate" card instead of a "fixed rate" card (in anticipation of these new rules, credit card companies have --shocker-- moved to almost all variable rate cards, so if you got a card in the last six months, it's practically guaranteed to be "variable rate"), or if you are 60 days late with your payments or if they tell you up front that it's only a teaser rate.
Universal default is now prohibited: Used to, credit card companies could up your rate for any blip on your credit screen. Late water bill? Up the rate. Miss the deadline on your $30 department store bill? Up the rate. Now, issuers can't up your APR because of payment records on unrelated accounts.
Standard payment dates and times: Your bill must be mailed at least 21 days before your payment is due and your due date should be the same each month.
Protection for underage consumers: You know those "free pizza when you sign up for a credit card" offers? No more. And if an applicant is under 21, he or she must show ability to make payments (income, what a concept) or get a cosigner to open a credit card account.
The "How Deep Have I Dug Myself?" Clause: Your credit card statement will now have to list clearly how long it will take you to pay off your balance if you only make minimum payments and an explanation of how much you need to pay off each month to pay off the balance in 3 years.
Will the new rules help people "manage" their credit? Maybe.
But, as the Wall Street Journal points out, these rules may cost the credit card companies up to $12 billion a year. So, expect the days of 0% cards and low fees to be long gone, and watch carefully to see if your fees (annual, foreign purchase, etc.) or rates go up.
The Journalalso reports that "the average American was running a credit-card balance of just over $5,400 at the end of 2009, down about $200 from five years ago, according to TransUnion, a Chicago-based firm that tracks credit data."
So maybe the rules will help card users feel a sense of control over their balances. But maybe consumers are already starting to do the best thing: just getting rid of their balances.
A few days ago I took that "get to know you" survey that Ted sent out. If you haven't taken it yet, you should. Even though the survey was anonymous, I avoided the temptation to put myself down as my favorite Boundless writer. (C'mon, you know I thought about it.)
But as I was clicking through the questions (believe me, it's fun), I came to the question asking if I had ever given to Boundless. It kind of stopped me cold. Because I never think about giving a financial donation to Boundless, although I regularly benefit from its ministry.
That got me thinking that there are probably a lot of other people out there like me who visit Boundless daily and benefit from the wisdom, life and community found here but just don't think to give ... probably because no one is ever asking for money (which is completely awesome). "Donate" is a small, almost undetectable tab, at the top of the main Webzine. But if you go there, (and please be sure to notice the hands in the picture — my first and only appearance as a hand model), you'll read this:
For [more than 10] years, Boundless has given out some high quality "candy" — strong journalism and cutting-edge design created to embolden hearts and minds. We've done it gladly, for your enjoyment, and it's been our privilege to hear back from you whenever you were encouraged or challenged by what you found in the dish that week.
But Boundless has never been free. A generous donor made the site possible at the beginning and many small gifts since then have kept it going. And that's why there's nothing out there quite like Boundless. While other Webzines have had to resort to selling their content, loading their sites up with ads or pushing lots of products, we've been able to stay focused on just giving away great reads.
Maybe, like me, you can take a moment to think about the value of Boundless in your life and consider whether you might want to be one of those "many small gifts" that keep the site going. Even a small donation makes a big difference. And you could be the one "filling the candy dish" for someone who really needs it.
A new report points to a sharp reduction of weather stations by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in cooler locations around the world since 1990. Could that be why global temps have seen a steady rise over the last 20 years?
What? Climate fear propagandists cherry picking data to support their climate fear propaganda? I'm shocked, shocked to find that data manipulation is going on here!
And this:
The global warming scandal keeps getting worse. Revelations over the few weeks show that many important assertions in the UN's Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change were based on misquotes and false claims from environmental groups, not on published academic research as it was originally presented.
Tell me it's not so! A group of bureaucrats at the UN are defending the legitimacy of their pet project with bogus data from tree huggers rather than scientists? Surprise, surprise.
Yes, the climate changes -- from season to season, and from year to year. It has for centuries, and will for centuries. But it's nothing to freak out about. And it shouldn't be an excuse for increasing taxes and curtailing liberty.
Rather than write anything new, let me simply reiterate what I've said before:
Yes, it's difficult and embarrassing to realize that you've been duped into believing that humans are responsible for a kind of global warming that will destroy the planet. It's difficult to believe that those we've considered beyond corruption -- environmental scientists, for example -- would sell out for a bit of proverbial porridge. It's difficult to believe that those in government who represent us would use this fake data as the reason to raise our taxes ("cap and trade") and control our lives ("agenda 21").
But the facts are there, for all to see: Planet-killing AGW is a fraud, pushed by hypocritical profiteers who care only about money and power: consider their jet trips, their wasteful homes, their expanding waistlines.
For the sake of truth and Christian stewardship, let's see beyond this hysterical AGW fear-mongering and invest our energies into something productive.
Again, this is relevant because we, as Christians, are to be wise stewards of truth and creation. Relationships are important, and so is truth and creation. That's why this topic is good for us to discuss here on Boundless. It's also good for us to discuss here on Boundless because young adults have the most to lose if oppressive government programs are enacted as phony "solutions" to this non-existent "problem."
Joe Fox from the movie You've Got Mail was on to something when he said the old AOL email greeting "You've got mail" were "Very powerful words." Even though we now have a wide variety of email notification sounds, they all seem to have a certain power over us.
Tim Challies wrote about this on his blog recently. He says he's come to the realization that email owns him and that there's some science behind why he "compulsively" keeps coming back for more.
But email is demanding, especially when given the reins. Recent scientific studies show that there may well be some kind of a correlation between the psychology of email and the psychology of slot machines. A variable interval schedule, as psychologists might know it, draws us back time and again, hoping for the occasional payout. Though most of the time there is no payout when checking email, just like there is usually all cost and no payout when playing slots, there is always the promise of something great. Occasionally we may win a jackpot and occasionally we may get a bit of very good news by email. But most of the time there is no payout at all. Yet our brains seem hard-wired to keep searching, to keep driving us back to the inbox, hoping against hope.
Tim decided to take the reins back and now schedules email into his life, checking it only two to three times a day. He writes, "It has shocked me to see that the world keeps turning even when I don’t constantly monitor email. Who would have thought it could be possible? Life goes on."
What about you? Do you own email or does it own you?
This article bothers me. It seeks to provide an answer to a pastor expressing genuine concern that the young adult members of his congregation pursue the good life at the expense of giving to the Kingdom. It misses the point entirely.
Here's the portion with the complaint:
Recently, a pastor explained to me that the young adults in his church were not giving because they were neck-deep in student loans, bought homes they could not afford, and were unable to curb their expensive lifestyles.
Here's the response from the author:
Unfortunately, economics is not included in the usual course load at most Bible colleges and seminaries; and, I would not have expected my friend to be familiar with the economic theories of intertemporal consumption. These theories seek to explain how we save and consume over the course of a lifetime and might offer some insight in the giving habits, or lack thereof, he was observing.
These theories might explain our "giving habits," but they do nothing to address the pastor's point that "how we save and consume" should be shaped by a kingdom perspective, not the other way around.
The author cites lower wages, living expenses and wealth accumulation as the reasons young adults give less. And if giving less means simply that their income is less, I would agree there's nothing to be concerned about. But it seems what he's saying is that giving is determined by your discretionary wealth. In other words, when you have more money, you'll give more.
I don't think so. Because giving has very little to do with wealth. It has to do with cultivating a heart that trusts God enough to hold your money loosely, whatever your income. Whether you're young or old, those are the types of Christians God uses to build his Kingdom. Economic theories have nothing to do with it.
I'm fascinated by online media trends -- who's blogging, who's twittering, who's on Facebook and what's the next big thing. It's sort of the world I live in. So the new Pew study on social media and mobile use was like candy to me.
While poring through the data my single thought was, Wow! Things change fast! Take blogging for example. Not too long ago it seemed everyone was blogging, or was planning to. Who would have guessed it would hit a ceiling in 2007 with just 24 percent of young adults? In just two years the number of 18-29 year-olds has decreased nine percentage points to just 15 percent.
It makes you wonder. Is twittering the preferred method of communication now? Or are young adults combining their need for expressing themselves in the more communal online experience like Facebook?
The data suggest both are happening. Here are some of the more interesting findings:
Facebook is currently the most commonly-used online social network among adults. Among adult profile owners 73 percent have a profile on Facebook, 48 percent have a profile on MySpace and 14 percent have a LinkedIn profile.
Young adults lead the way when it comes to using Twitter or status updating. One-third of online 18-29 year olds post or read status updates.
And as for the preferred technology and method of accessing the internet:
81 percent of adults between the ages of 18 and 29 are wireless internet users. By comparison, 63 percent of 30-49 year olds and 34 percent of those ages 50 and up access the internet wirelessly.
Roughly half of 18-29 year olds have accessed the internet wirelessly on a laptop (55 percent) or on a cell phone (55 percent), and about one quarter of 18-29 year-olds (28 percent) have accessed the internet wirelessly on another device such as an e-book reader or gaming device.
The impact of the mobile web can be seen in young adults' computer choices. Two-thirds of 18-29 year olds (66 percent) own a laptop or netbook, while 53 percent own a desktop computer. Young adults are the only age cohort for which laptop computers are more popular than desktops.
What do you guys think? Will twittering continue to rise or will it fall like blogging? Will Facebook continue its dominance or will something else come along? And will things like the iPad replace the laptop?
I had some questions about "extreme bromances" a few days ago, so I wrote a blog about it. The responses have been very helpful as I prepare to work with one of our authors to write an in-depth article on this issue.
Now I'd like to toss out another question. And it's a sincere one. If you don't read PluggedIn.com movie reviews, why don't you?
You probably read reviews on other things you spend money on -- an automobile, a stereo, a book -- why not research a film to determine if it's worth seeing before you plunk down $10? I love that they're free, and written by knowledgeable folks who share my worldview. And so I'm genuinely interested in understanding why someone wouldn't check them out.
Again, this is a sincere question, and not simply Ted being snide and rhetorical....
It's a Step by Nathan Zacharias on 01/05/2010 at 11:53 AM
This is kind of a big week for me – I’m actually moving to New York City on Thursday.
I’m going in hopes of pursuing some additional writing opportunities. I don’t know how long I’ll end up being there. Whether it’s a few months, the rest of my life, or somewhere in between, I think it will be good for me ... aside from the fact that I’ll be force-fed Yankees and Mets propaganda. They can flaunt their fancy stadiums all they want but I’m not cheering for them. Plus it's ironic that I'm moving to the city that never sleeps considering I don't feel rested unless I have nine hours of sleep.
I’ve been thinking about what this move may hold for me. In the past I’ve put so much expectation on every decision I make (as you may remember from a previous post). But I haven’t done that this time. I’m not expecting it to drastically change my life. And how long I stay depends on other circumstances in my life.
However, I’m finally taking to heart the fact that the success of a decision doesn’t always depend on a met expectation or life-changing result. Sometimes a stepping stone is just that: a stepping stone.
Which means sometimes the victory is in just taking a step.
I love Sharpies. The bold colors. The consistent lines. The permanent ink. New Sharpies are to me now what new crayons used to be on the first day of school.
You can tell when you need new Sharpies because they start to dry out. And the tips of the pens go from round to square, making it hard to complete the curves of certain letters. They start to look tired, showing the wear and tear of all those notes, letters, lists and doodles.
It so happened that this year, I bought a new set in December, and opened it this weekend to kick off the New Year (don't worry, we did more than that to celebrate). I took the green one out of the package to journal over the weekend, and the purple one to write out plans for the coming year. The ink was consistent, the lines thin, the curves ... curvy. Joy. (It's the little things.)
And this brings me to the real point of this post: the planning. As Steve's shared in the past, it's a consistent and important part of our New Year's day to look back at where we've been and more importantly, look ahead to where we want (and need) to go.
O LORD, I know the way of man is not in himself; It is not in man who walks to direct his own steps (Jeremiah 10:23).
That passage, from the Daily Light's January 1 morning reading, is an apt start to a new year. As we undertake lists of resolutions, goals, hopes, plans, dreams — whatever you call the way we tend to embrace this clean slate of a new year with new and better intentions — we do well to remember that we are unable to direct our own steps. There is humility and great comfort in that truth.
That's not to say we should just let time happen to us without any thought to our ways. Planning is good and helpful. Having a sense of direction makes it more likely we'll get where we should go. Some of the questions we answered (that you could also ask yourself) to help us set priorities for the year ahead include:
What would you like to see different about your life one year from now?
What would you like to have accomplished in that time?
How can you improve your relationships, your school work or professional work?
What purchases would you like to make?
Where would you like to travel?
What growth or change would you like to see in your spiritual life, professional life, social life, physical well-being?
What things do you enjoy most; what are your favorite things?
What things do you wish you could stop doing?
However you prepare for the year ahead, remember to consider the source of your map. And your mapmaker. God knows where we should walk. He is able to keep our feet from stumbling (Psalm 56:13, Psalm 116:8). I don't know about you, but that gives me comfort, and great comfort!
The last day of another year. It always catches me by surprise, this passing of time. I keep trying to stop it — or at least see it going by. But like breath, it's imperceptible. Until it's gone.
Lord, teach me to number my days aright, that I may gain a heart of wisdom.
That's what Moses prayed. And of late, it's my prayer, too. I don't want to find myself sad that more time has passed. After all, isn't such sorrow simply because I didn't make the most of each moment? Not in a "be all that you can be" or carpe diem sloganeering way, but in a faithful stewardship, fruitful for the kingdom sort of way.
And so again, tomorrow, Steve and I will spend some hours thinking through our priorities and setting goals for the new year (you can read more about that here). A clean slate. A fresh start. As much as I'm wistful over this year's ending, I'm excited about the new year's coming!
Just as this last day gives me pause, and even a pang of sorrow for opportunities lost — moments that will never be again — so tomorrow's first day fills me with joy and wonder. So much possibility. What will the next season hold?
I'm ever thankful for a God — our loving heavenly Father — who gave us time. When we use it for His glory, it's a gift.
Matt's post about Christmas carols reminded me of a favorite family tradition: singing carols. For the past few years, my dad, sisters and I have sung carols outside the church for the Christmas Eve service. Some years we've even dressed in Victorian garb and knocked on neighbors' doors. Watch the video to see us sing "Joy to the World" -- and enjoy the cameo of my nephew.
Other things we seem to always do as a family around Christmas:
What Christmas week traditions do you enjoy with your family? What are some of your best memories of Christmas?
My Christmas was different this year. We visited my husband's family for Christmas ... and started some new traditions of our own. But when I see my family this weekend, I'm sure we'll be up to our old tricks -- including a few robust verses of "Joy to the World."
This morning I woke up with a full list of tasks to complete: finish Christmas cards, bake holiday goodies, run out to grab stocking stuffers, arrive on time for the family photo session, attend Christmas Eve service and then join family for Christmas Eve dinner. Phew!
Each year I struggle to find that balance between tasks (which can certainly take over if I don't watch it) and reflection. On Christmas Eve, I want to remember what this celebration is really about. The most precious gift — Jesus — and the most precious reality — a God who made the greatest sacrifice possible in order to have a relationship with me. This truth obscures all the seemingly insignificant motions I go through.
How can I settle into the truth? Consider three perspectives of joy recorded in Scripture.
Mary — Luke 1:46-50:
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation."
Zechariah — Luke 1:68-72:
“Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has come and has redeemed his people. He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David (as he said through his holy prophets of long ago), salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us—to show mercy to our fathers and to remember his holy covenant."
Simeon — Luke 2:29-32:
“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”
Thinking about the joy of Mary, Zechariah and Simeon, revives my own passion. Imagine the excitement of living at the time when Salvation arrived on earth in the person of Jesus? Some 2000 years later, we still live in the joy and freedom His life, death and resurrection provided. That is a sweet truth this eve of Christmas.
Thanks! by Steve Watters on 12/11/2009 at 10:56 AM
Thanks!
This has been an encouraging week for us. Thanks to all the readers who have contacted us about our upcoming 100th podcast with such supportive feedback.
Thanks also to Rebekah from Woodstock, New Brunswick for the Starbucks gift card. We're hosting a Boundless Christmas coffee break in your honor next Monday.
A big thanks as well to Andrea from San Jose, California. Wow, what a generous gift.
It's your support that keeps Boundless going -- both your financial contributions and your encouraging e-mails and letters.
"Christmas isn't about gettin', it's about givin'," so my 6-year-old son has been quoting a Veggie Tales line continuously to us since December 1st.
We've talked gently about how Christmas is actually about Jesus, not giving -- though giving is, and should be, a big part of our Christmas celebration.
Still, I like the phrase. It's simple. It's snappy. Would that my giving this year would be as simply and snappy, but I've hit a little more complicated snag.
Each year in the past, we've enjoyed including our kids in shopping for others -- whether that be Angel Tree, the family my husband's work adopts or whatever "wish list" happens to come across our path. Usually the kids we shop for are around our kids' ages, and it's a good time to talk about blessings, thankfulness and giving generously.
This year, though, as I looked over the two lists that we decided to be a part of, I noticed something. On each list were (what I would consider, though some may disagree) higher-end electronic items.
One list was from two elementary children, both around my kids' ages, asking for items that I haven't even purchased for my own children. (Although, apparently, I must be a Scrooge parent. Yesterday, after purchasing a winter jacket for my son, size 6, I saw that the tag advertised that it had a pocket especially designed for this electronic item. I can see it now. "What's this pocket for, Mom?" "You're too young to know, my boy, too young to know.")
The other list was from a high-school age girl, asking for an item that I've considered a little too pricey to buy for myself.
So, I sat and thought about this for awhile.
As a person who has the ability to access this web site and read its contents, I am one of the rich of this world. So are you. And the Bible commands both of us not just to give, but to give generously. To take care of the poor and the fatherless (which these kids are). To support Christian brothers and sisters and pastors.
The giving is not an option. But the how sometimes gets a little messy.
We've talked about this before with the homeless situation. Do you give the money, give something else instead (like the granola bar/info on homeless centers combo) or pass on by and give to groups that will provide to them and share the gospel?
In the past, I've gotten wish lists from kids which asked for CDs that I wasn't comfortable giving or books that I wouldn't encourage kids to read, and I simply passed them by, purchasing other things.
But this was the first time that I had no real moral issues with the actual gift, except for concerns that it was just simply "too much."
So, do I give what they are asking for (knowing that I'm not giving it to my own kids, but that my own kids are blessed in thousands of other ways and this would be a chance to show some out-of-the-park generosity)?
Or do I give just as generously, but give in the more practical way of clothes/shoes/socks with a smaller something fun?
Do I bow to the coat pressure and just buy electronic items for everyone? (Not really.)
I want to show the love of Christ this Christmas season. I want to embrace my God-given commandment to take care of the poor. This season, with these lists, it's just not as simply and snappy as it has been in the past.
This last weekend I was on a flight up to Toronto, killing time by looking through the always entertaining SkyMall magazine. I mean seriously, who doesn't get a kick out of that big inflatable body pillow that they sell for people to use on a plane? I barely have enough room for my laptop as it is.
I can see it now -- you're shuffling down the aisle and into your painfully cruel middle seat when all of a sudden you hear "pffft ... pfffft ... pffft" and turn to see the person next to you blowing up their huge plastic pillow.
Anwyay, in this issue of SkyMall they happened to save the best ad for last. Close to the end of the magazine there was a product with this ad line, "Have you ever wanted to make or receive a call underwater?" The accompanying picture was a scuba diver with this product connected to his mask, and he's phoning someone while underwater. He must have been looking at some pretty amazing coral.
But while I did get some good entertainment out of that ad (my apologies to anyone who may have bought it ... or the pillow), it made me think about something that has probably crossed all of our minds at some point or another -- is it possible to be too connected?
In an age of phone calls, e-mails, text messages, Facebook, and Twitter, we can contact each other any day, any time. Phones are buzzing constantly, and the social expectation now is that a person must respond right away. And now suddenly not being able to make a phone call while scuba diving is being framed as an inconvenience.
Certainly technological advances have created a lot of positives, and it's a great thing to be able to keep in touch with friends and loved ones all over the world with such ease. I'm very thankful for the means to do that.
However, have we reached the point where we've become too accessible? With all the communications flying in from all over the place, do you think it makes it harder to give your attention to the tasks and people who are immediately around you?
Today I spoke at a local middle school's career day.
Several weeks ago, I received an unusual email from one of the teachers of the school. "I'm looking for someone to come to career day and talk about their life as an actor."
Well, that was a first. I'd spoken at several classes about my career as an editor, but never anything about acting. I quickly informed the teacher (who had viewed my profile on a local actors and artists web site) that acting was not actually my profession but that I performed improv comedy as a hobby.
Her response, "That sounds great. The kids need to know that they may not to make a living doing acting, but that it can still be a fun part of their lives."
So that's how I came to speak to eighth graders about my life as a (somewhat unsuccessful) actor. One of my teammates went with me, so we could perform some improv and offer two perspectives. Though I'm in a profession I love and do improv as a fun outlet, my teammate shared with the kids that he does a job that pays the bills (he's a realtor) so that he can pursue his true passion — performing.
Welcome to the real world, kids.
Today I read an article called "In Pursuit of Your Passion" that addressed this very issue. The author writes:
Many twentysomethings struggle with the transition into the real world. Dealing with the disappointment of a boring job, a failing relationship or a struggling spiritual life can diffuse dreams.
Twentysomething Sarah Deutschmann can identify. “I have this innate sense that there is a larger meaning to my life, that I am meant to do something great,” she said. “And this is somehow leading me to the conclusion that what I am doing right now (and getting paid quite well to do it) is not of great meaning and gives me no passion. Instead, I go through the same motions each day to do just enough to make my supervisor happy and get a paycheck.”
Somehow along the way, many of us began expecting that the thing that pays the bills be the same thing that fulfills us.That's where frustration can come in. I admire my teammate's realistic perspective. "I do something I'm decent at that pays the bills, and I pursue my passion on the side."
We may have brought a dose of reality to a few 13-year-olds today, but that's a good thing, I think. In economic hard times, many of us are grateful to have a job, let alone one that we're good at or mildly enjoy. A man (or woman) is to work diligently for his wage, Scripture tells us. But passion flows from many sources.
I wasn't even listening for it. But the moment I opened the car door, I heard it. And I smiled a little.
It was the ringing of the Salvation Army bells. Every year, at least where I live, the Salvation Army bell ringers are as much a part of the Christmas season as the lights, decorations and sales.
Having two kids who are now cognizant of the meaning of the bells, I have to be careful to keep a wad of small bills and coins in my purse. They want to give. I want to encourage that -- and there were at least a couple of times last year that we had to go digging in the car cushions because I didn't have any cash in my wallet.
Turns out I'm not the only one.
In a recent AP article, Major Don Gilger, coordinator of the Salvation Army of El Paso County in Colorado said, "It used to be people would spend their money at the store counters, walk out and drop their change in the kettles. They don't shop that way anymore. We all realize that people are carrying less cash than they did 10 years ago."
The solution? The Salvation Army is trying out "plastic kettles" -- bellringer stations that are equipped with machines to accept credit and debit cards. Last year, giving was up 11 percent in the two cities (Dallas and Colorado Springs) where the Salvation Army tested the machines (though only about $5,000 of the total $64,000 increase was attributable to credit and debit card donations).
Maybe one day, Salvation Army officials say, the charity will come up with something even faster than dropping a coin. "I would love it eventually if we had a little antenna on the kettles and you could walk by and just beam a donation from your phone," Gilger said.
I know that credit and debit cards have become a big part of charity giving. In fact, I just got a call yesterday from a ministry I support with a friendly reminder that the card they have on file for me will be expiring at the end of the month. And I appreciated it. It saves me from writing a check every month.
I just hope they don't do away with the bells. I really like the bells. It's a small reminder, to me at least, that as I head into a store to buy gifts, or clothes for my family, or even just milk, that there are those who don't have any of those. And I like that
We received the following e-mail from a Boundless reader:
I have read your article on "The two shall become one...checkbook" and found it very useful. But I have a question. I am about to get married next year. However, I currently have a few joint accounts with my father. We created a joint account because it eased transactions while I was away from the country. Now that I am back and going to be married, and would like to clear the mess on my financial matters, how do I broach this subject to him? By the way, I am writing from an Asian country, with it's own cultural values, some which says that we have to finance our parents until death (which I agree, is honoring our parents). However, because my fiance and I are Christians and my parents are not, where as his are Christians but still embedded in the Asian culture, we find it tough that we're stuck. Please give me some idea on what I can do.
Here's my response.
First, thank you for writing. Finances are very emotional, very personal things. Combine finances with family and you've bumped that up exponentially. So, it means a lot that you trust us with this important issue.
The advice that jumps to my mind first is of the purely practical realm. You say that you created the joint accounts for convenience -- to ease transactions while you were away from the country. You are now back. There is a lot of information I don't have, but, in general, I would probably go to my father and say, "I am very grateful for how you have helped me with my financial matters while I was away. It was a real service to me and I appreciate it. However, since I am now able to conduct these matters myself, I believe it's time to dissolve the joint account and create one on my own."
Or, if you would feel more comfortable, broach it as a question, seeking his opinions: "Dad, we created these joint accounts to help to solve a problem that no longer exists. Since I am back in the country now, and am engaged to be married, do you have an opinion on what you and I should do with these accounts?"
If he agrees with you, act. It could be that he has simply been waiting for your maturity to bring it up. If he doesn't, it's a good time to ask some gentle probing questions on his reasoning and listen carefully to his answers.
It's possible some issues may come up. Things like: How do we honor our parents financially? How do we transition from the authority of our parents to a new family unit?
In that case, I believe that there are two biblical principles that apply to your situation.
The first is Genesis 2:20-25 -- often known as the "leave and cleave" section of Scripture. The second is the (very biblical, not just Asian) principle of honoring our parents.
How do those work into your finances? In his book, Money and Marriage God's Way, Howard Dayton has some helpful words:
"...Like eagles, parents should encourage their married children to transfer their dependence to the Lord and to each other.
This time can be emotional for all concerned. Compare life to a book with a series of chapters that we open and close as we move from one phase to another. Closing some chapters takes courage and wisdom and can be sorrowful.
In this "leaving" chapter, the parents' role changes to that of a coach or advisor. They should allow the young couple to make their own decisions even if they are not the ones the parents would make.
...Children, on the other hand, should continue to honor their parents and seek their counsel without remaining emotionally or financially dependent on them. Husband and wife need to cleave to one another."
Remember that it is right and good for you to leave your parents and cleave to your husband when you are married. It is also right and good for you to honor your parents. The Bible is showing us that we can do both. That honor, as we mature, does not require dependence.
Though our cultures are admittedly different, I agree with you that part of honoring our parents is financial. In my opinion, it has more to do with blessing them and sheltering them from need as they may grow incapable of caring for themselves, not financing their whims.
You are not yet married so, in my opinion, the burden of this decision falls on you. And I don't believe there is a biblical mandate one way or the other -- either you must have joint accounts with your parents or you must not. It sounds like you want to end the joint accounts. Then, I would approach your parents and discuss it. You are not stuck. You are a woman, grown enough to enter into marriage, and grown enough to have an adult conversation with your parents. Pray and ask the Lord to give you His wisdom, a clear direction, gentle words and an honoring heart.
But do keep an eye toward your future marriage. Though you are not married yet (and shouldn't act as if you are in any realm, including the financial), things will change when you are. Consider carefully God's wisdom about your marriage. What does the Bible say your marriage should look like? How do the authority structures that God has set up change? In light of those, how should your finances change? What is now your money will become "our" money. So I can certainly see the wisdom in making that transition as smooth as possible, with no other third parties involved in the mix.
I know it may be uncomfortable and even difficult. But, trust me, this won't be the last financial entanglement you have with your family. In the course of our marriage, my husband and I have dealt with financial gifts from family members, inheritances, family members wanting loans, and selling complicated assets (whose car is this if my parents gave it to me?). None of these situations were easy, but all of them have been an opportunity for my husband and I to cleave. For us to caucus, listen to each other, consider our family's feelings, and come out with a united decision (as "one").
In this situation and in your future marriage, I believe it will be the same for you: an opportunity to grow in Christ. God bless your marriage! I'm so excited for you!
On the day after Cyber Monday, this MSN money article provided a refreshing reminder of how to avoid holiday overspending.
My favorite advice? Don't be blinded by bargains.
"It was 60% off! How could I pass that up?"
Sound familiar? But just because something is a good deal doesn't mean it's a good deal for you. With so many discounts this season, it's easy to fall into the trap of buying something simply because it's on sale. You may spend more than you normally would have or end up with a closet full of cheap, unnecessary stuff.
Stay focused by drawing up a budget and gift list before you head to the stores. Write down everyone you need to buy for, along with the amount of money you're willing to spend on each person. Then jot down gift ideas for each person on your list. An hour of forethought can save you a bundle in the long run.
I actually made myself proud on Friday when I got up at 4:15 a.m. (my husband was up to start his morning's work at a the coffee shop), but chose not to hit the stores. I had been considering it, but when I made a list of what we actually needed and did a little snooping on the Internet to see what door busters were being offered, I realized I would end up buying stuff not on the list. So after grabbing that early morning cup of coffee, I cleaned the whole house instead.
Other holiday spending tips from the article include: Don't use credit, budget for extras, keep receipts and resist over-giving. Good advice with 24 shopping days left.
In today's Boundless article, I write about something I've noticed among secular and Christian financial advisers.
Though there are many things that both perspectives would agree on (get rid of revolving debt, save and give), when it comes to financial specifics, the divide can widen ... significantly. One area where I noticed this gap was in advice to couples.
In the article, I give several examples of popular, secular financial speakers and authors who suggest that couples maintain separate financial lives or, at least, that couples should just do "whatever works." But, in the Christian financial realm, you'll be hard-pressed to find many who advocate separate accounts or "whatever works."
I wrote:
Why the disparity? Why are so many secular advisors pro-separate accounts or, at best, neutral, while so many Christian advisors advocate joint accounts?
One study by the Raddon Financial Group showed that 48 percent of married couples had two or more checking accounts in 2005 — up from 39 percent in 2001. So, are Christian financial advisors ignorant or just behind the times? Or, is there something more?
The more I read, the more I tend to think that there is something more.
Specifically, that it's not just about the accounts. It's about what each group believes about marriage — what marriage is and how to make it work well.
For those of us deciding which advice to take, those beliefs are important.
So I looked into what each group really believed about marriage, if their advice was even for married people at all, what assumptions they made about relationships and whether those assumptions matched the Word.
I was pretty intrigued by what I found.
Give the article a read. Have you thought at all about how you will handle your finances when you are married? Does understanding some of the secular financial advisers' assumptions about marriage and relationships give you pause when considering whether to take their advice or not?
Task Debt by Suzanne Hadley Gosselin on 11/13/2009 at 4:23 PM
With a weekend coming, it suddenly occurred to me today how much I have to do: Housecleaning projects to take care of, post-wedding thank-you notes to write, a garage to clean out, and, of course, that pesky book proposal to finish. I suddenly feel like I have task debt; the feeling is akin to realizing that you have debt on your credit card that you should have paid off months ago. Unfinished tasks upon unfinished tasks.
How did I accumulate this debt? Simple. I went to the movies when I should have been cleaning my house. I watched TV when I should have been writing thank-you notes. I slept in when I should have been getting the garage cleaned out. And I wasted time on Facebook when I should have been writing that book proposal.
And now I'm paying the price. Did I really need all those outings, TV episodes and morning sleep-ins. No. It was a discipline issue.
You've probably heard what the Bible says about those who sleep instead of work:
"A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest—and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man." (Proverbs 6:10-11)
Well, there's more. For months, I've been saying that I'm going to take care of the aforementioned tasks. The Proverbs have a zinger for that one, too:
"All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty." (Proverbs 14:23)
Uh oh. Interesting that both passages talk about poverty -- a financial condition. Debt, anyone? I don't know if I would be financially better off if I completed my work (maybe if I got that book deal), but I do know my soul would feel richer. As things stand, I'm constantly worried about when I'm going to get things done. I think this weekend, I'll get going on paying off that debt. Then some day, maybe I'll be able to pay "cash" for that Saturday sleep-in.
I have to force myself to help friends move, show up early to church to set up chairs and make meals for people who need them. But I do ... force myself. Because it seems clear from Scripture that we're all on the hook to be the hands and feet of Jesus to others through acts of service.
Though I try not to hide behind it, I've never considered myself to have the "gift of helps." But Friday's post on "Stuff Christians Like" challenges the notion of this "gift:"
A couple years ago I got in a heated argument with a fairly well-known Christian author when he was guest speaking in our Sunday school class. He was talking about how we each have spiritual gifts, which is totally valid, but by way of example he happened to mention that you would never find him sweeping up the church because he didn’t have the “Gift of Helps.”
I suggested that the idea of a gift of “Helps” was invented by people who were too lazy to pitch in and help out around the church. I asked him if he was seriously suggesting that he couldn’t put a chair away because he didn’t have that spiritual gift. “I see that those chairs need to be put away, and I’m just standing here. I wish I could help, I really do. If only God had blessed me with the Gift of Helps!”
I think this concept has been abused. After all, aren't all believers called to help one another? I wrote about this in "Useful Christian:"
Everyone has something to contribute to God's work (Romans 12). Part of the challenge is just showing up. While the Bible doesn't come out and say, "Make yourself useful!" the concept is implied. The imagery of a body, in which each limb, organ and muscle does its part, reinforces the idea that you should be doing simply what you are able.
In a day of sophisticated spiritual gifts tests and leadership training, some Christians may feel like they have little to offer. Others may feel that pulling weeds, making peanut butter sandwiches or holding babies doesn't properly utilize their "gifts."
When I'm tempted to think certain tasks are not worth my time, I remember my pastor. Most Sundays I see him pushing carts of chairs long after service has ended. It's a task any able bodied person could do, but Pastor is quick to pitch in wherever there is need.
Spiritual gifts should not be used as excuses to abandon the more practical, daily offerings of the Christian life. Sometimes washing a sink of dishes speaks louder than preaching a sermon.
The Value of Rest by Suzanne Hadley Gosselin on 10/28/2009 at 1:19 PM
My first three years of college I was an achiever. I worked hard to do well in all my classes, became student newspaper editor and earned several scholarships. For me, everything seemed within grasp if I just worked hard enough ... including spiritual goals.
When I suddenly fell ill to Lyme disease as a senior, I began to see how warped my thinking was. All of a sudden, I wasn't able to work hard and accomplish things. I had to rely on the mercy of others to even manage 12 credit hours. Many times my energy felt like that Old Testament widow's jar ... it refilled just enough to get me through each day. This setback drastically altered my view of my worth. I had put a lot of stock in my ability to do things and even viewed my value to God in my performance. As a sick person with little to give, I came to discover my value came from who I was, not what I could do.
In today's featured article "Craving Crisis," Kara Schwab describes a similar epiphany:
Somehow I was letting what I was doing for God give me purpose, instead of simply being His child. I must have believed that by doing more, I could prove my love to God, earn His love and feel good about myself. The problem is, the older you get and the more your faith matures, the more you realize you're not a super hero or a super Christian, but just a big, worthless windbag of sin. And what pierces you is not the shame of it all, but the truth that even with all that wind, there's nothing you can do to further fan the flame of Christ's incredible and passionate love for you.
I would say I discovered I was more than a "worthless windbag of sin" trying to make up the difference through superhuman effort. No, I was far from worthless. But my worth came from the price Jesus paid to reconcile me to Himself. There was nothing I could do to render myself more or less valuable to Him. During that time, a professor said to me, "Sometimes God humbles those with gifts, because they find too much value in them." That was true for me. Through my illness God tore me down to my foundation and began rebuilding.
As Kara points out, some people get a buzz off of averting crises and doing it all. But eventually you will not be able to do it all, and what then?
Now, I find that what I crave is balance. And while I still enjoy a heart-thumping mountain-top experience as much as anyone else, I'm finding more meaning in the hike that gets me there. Balance is something I'll always have to actively pursue. Only now I know this pursuit begins by resting at the feet of Jesus.
That kind of rest can be a slippery thing to grasp. But there's power in recognizing your limitations and realizing that what you can or can't do matters less than we think. God does His thing regardless of our abilities. And He invites us to peace and satisfaction. Something far better than the crisis.
When Josh Harris applies Proverbs 24:33-34 to new media it makes me want to stop blogging and ask God for wisdom. I'll finish this post so you can join me there.
This week I moved to a new cubicle. This is the fourth time I have moved during my nine years with Focus. Each time, I purge books and papers that I no longer need. Then I dutifully dump the contents of my desk drawer into a box for transfer to its next home.
This time I made an interesting discovery. My drawer contains a staple remover. Now this staple remover has been in my drawer for more than nine years and yet I cannot recall one time when I used it. However, each time I've moved, the little staple remover has come along. It must feel terribly useless in that drawer.
This got me to thinking: How many things in my home and office do I never use and yet accept their presence as necessary? I mean, what desk drawer doesn't have a staple remover? It's standard issue, right? (There has to be a Dilbert cartoon about this sort of thing.) Go ahead, look in your drawer and tell us the thing you don't use.
Or what about the useless items in your house? My husband found many of these little "treasures" when he moved into my town home. My junk drawer contained some extra wires from my gas fireplace, which has worked perfectly during the four years I've lived there. In fact, were the fireplace to actually malfunction, I would have absolutely no idea how to implement the wires.
"If the fireplace broke," Kevin pointed out, "I'd just call someone to come fix it." Good call. We trashed the mystery wires.
So spill: What is the oddest, useless thing you keep around your home or office?
Kids Are Rocks by Heather Koerner on 10/01/2009 at 4:00 PM
There's been a lot of talk lately about modern women being unhappy.
The most recent is Maureen Dowd's New York Times article, "Blue is the New Black." In it, Dowd writes:
According to the General Social Survey, which has tracked Americans’ mood since 1972, and five other major studies around the world, women are getting gloomier and men are getting happier.
Before the ’70s, there was a gender gap in America in which women felt greater well-being. Now there’s a gender gap in which men feel better about their lives.
What's the deal, Dowd wonders. Women have broken out of our "domestic cocoons" (her words). We've left our mothers' "circumscribed lives behind." Why aren't we happy?
"[T]he more women have achieved," she writes, "the more they seem aggrieved. Did the feminist revolution end up benefiting men more than women?"
Perhaps men are happier because women still have the "second shift" (more housework and child care to do after the work day is over)? Probably not, Dowd writes. Though women still do more of each, the "trend lines are moving toward more parity, which should make [women] less stressed."
Dowd offers a few possible solutions to the "paradox," then focuses on one in particular: kids.
One area of extreme distraction is kids. "Across the happiness data, the one thing in life that will make you less happy is having children," said Betsey Stevenson, an assistant professor at Wharton who co-wrote a paper called "The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness." "It’s true whether you’re wealthy or poor, if you have kids late or kids early. Yet I know very few people who would tell me they wish they hadn’t had kids or who would tell me they feel their kids were the destroyer of their happiness."
The more important things that are crowded into their lives, the less attention women are able to give to each thing.
Here's what that last line (read it again, would you?) got me thinking of: rocks. Stephen Covey, well-known author of the The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, has a "rock theory." Boiled down, the theory goes like this: Your life is bucket. Put the big rocks in first, then the little rocks, then the sand, then the water. It all fits. So, know what the big rocks in your life are and start there.
What I've found is that my kids are the rocks in my life. I think you will find that, by your desire and by God's design, your kids will become the rocks in your life as well. They are a joy and they are a reward. But they are also very hard work. The very nature of raising kids demands time.
Before I had kids, I was able to juggle some pretty big boulders. A full-time career. An hour-long commute. But when my daughter came along, I realized that a choice had to be made. Would I give up some of the other rocks in my life or would I try to now cram them all in the jar together? Though it involved some serious financial and lifestyle sacrifices, I gave up some of the other rocks in my life. And I've never been sorry.
I still work, obviously. But my work has the flexibility to be a small rock, the sand or even, at times, the water (you probably didn't notice, but there was a serious lack of Heather articles this summer over at Boundless), depending on what my family and I need.
Other moms know the stress of having too many rocks. In fact, 79 percent of all moms (working outside the home or not) say that working full-time when you have children is not ideal.
Modern women are unhappy. Feminism is not working. It is the call of the church of Jesus Christ to image the kind of happy (though by no means easy) life of the biblical home. We do so not merely as a means of witness, in these strange days, but as a means of rescue.
I know that there are a few working moms who read this blog. Who feel that, because of decisions or circumstances, their work has to be a major rock in their life. Please know that no one here at Boundless, including me, is judging you or condemning you.
But I don't want to equivocate either. For those of you looking down life's road to future children, there are things you can do now to give yourself flexibility in the future. I hope you'll consider it. 79 percent of women, including me, are trying to tell you something.
I’ve become one of those people whose coffee order comes dangerously close to being a small novel. My newest order is the “Venti Iced Nonfat Half Chai Half Pumpkin Spice Latte.” Hey, one of the baristas recommended it recently and I have to say it’s actually really good.
It reminds me of a line from the movie You’ve Got Mail:
The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the [heck] they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self.
Now, there are two things that stick out to me about that quote. First of all, the days when Starbucks charged only 2.95 for anything other than a standard coffee are long gone. Second, sadly the older I get, the more truth this statement seems to take on.
As life goes on, it seems there’s more and more at stake with every decision. It used to be where a decision could easily come down to what I wanted to do. Then suddenly there were pros and cons. And now I find myself frequently paralyzed by the “what if’s” that come to mind.
When we’re younger, the decisions don’t seem so monumental. If things didn’t go the way we hoped, it always felt like there would be plenty of time to recover. Now I’m 28, and I realize that the major decisions I’m facing will drastically affect the rest of my life.
I was thinking about this other day when suddenly Matthew 6:34 came to mind. And for the first time, it really made sense to me.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I used to wonder why Jesus told us that. Surely there’s nothing wrong with thinking about the future is there?
But at this stage of life I interpret those words in a different way. Sometimes the big picture is so intimidating that it becomes difficult to even focus on today. And I think that's what Jesus was warning us about.
It's a reminder I'm having to keep in mind each day as I move forward in life. All I can do is commit the process to Him and make the best decision possible based on the guidance He gives me. It's not always easy, but tomorrow is in no better set of hands than His.
How are you approaching the major decisions you're facing? Do you find the unknown of the future is causing you to struggle in the present?
It's fall. The air is crisp. University towns are booming again. Classes have commenced. Football teams are almost past their puff schedules to the real teams. And the tables are probably up.
You know, the "Sign Up For a Credit Card and Get a Free (Pizza/T-shirt/iTunes card/whatever)" tables.
As regular as clockwork, it seems, VISA, Mastercard and Discover show up on college campuses, intent on starting coeds into their life of debt with their own particular card. And every year, some (though not all) fall for it: "Wow, I'll just take the free pizza and only use the card for emergencies."
Then, two months later, groceries become an emergency. Three months, clothes. Five months, pizza for the suitemates. And on it goes. (My own alma mater has found a unique way to discourage the tables.)
But that all stops this year. ""We're calling it the last open season on credit for college students," Gail Hillebrand, an attorney at Consumers Union, told USA Today.
That's because, according to the article:
Legislation signed into law in May will prohibit credit card companies from offering gifts to college students who agree to fill out a credit card application. The legislation also prohibits lenders from issuing credit cards to individuals younger than 21 unless they can prove they can afford payments or get a parent or other older individual to co-sign.
Up to now, the marketing seems to be working. In 2008, 84 percent of college students had credit cards (up from 78 percent in 2000) and a whopping half had four or more cards (up from 32 percent in 2000). Yeesh, what do you need four cards for?
The law's provisions don't take effect until February of next year. So, some consumer advocates fear that this fall will be the most aggressive marketing yet.
I'm a little ambivalent. One side of me says that we should educate college students (and high school and middle school students, too) and then let them make choices and deal with the consequences. But the other side says that yes, someone should have to prove that they have a self-produced income stream before being allowed to enter into the adult financial world.
In a sane world, a bank and/or credit card company would want collateral or a proven income track record before loaning money. But then, we haven't exactly been living in sane times lately. And I'm not sure if credit card companies are that concerned about college students getting into over-their-heads-debt. From the company's perspective, either momma and poppa will pay it off or the student can carry the debt into their income-earning years (with a nice, hefty amount of interest).
My wife wrote a blog post. So I don't have to. Thanks, wife.
* * *
I think my husband Ted has watched School of Rock one too many times.
As our resident musician, he's recently determined that it's his responsibility to educate our kids in music. While he has yet to put a drum set in the living room or enter our kids in a Battle of the Bands Contest, he has instituted a Music Appreciation class of sorts. We've listened to Stevie Wonder, Chicago, Rush, and more classical music than I care to list.
Yesterday marked Beatles Appreciation Day here. OK, so maybe not officially. But we did spend a good portion of our Wednesday listening to the Beatles.
Ted firmly believes that the Beatles are an essential part of any musical education. So in his quest to introduce our three young daughters to what he considers foundational, we've been ingesting the Fab Four.
So far the responses have been mixed.
While my 5-year-old was convinced that "Love Me Do" is perfect campfire music, my 1-year-old eagerly danced to the rock n' roll crafted decades before her birth. My 3-year-old was oblivious, despite her love for music. Although I did manage to draw a giggle from her when I grabbed her hand and sang along to "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
What have I personally discovered about the Beatles? I've learned that a song like "Eleanor Rigby" is haunting -- especially after reading a two-part article like George Haltizka's "Everett Bradley." This fictional account reminded me that lonely people exist in all seasons of life, whether in the form of an 84-year-old man named Everett, a middle-aged man named Tom, or a teenager named Stacy.
Have you ever felt lonely? I have.
I've wondered, as the Beatles ask of lonely people, Where do I belong? I have felt useless like Everett Bradley.
While I'm not eager to return to a season of loneliness, I am thankful for what it has taught me.
First, I shouldn't discount how God can use lonely seasons in my life to draw me closer to Him. Loneliness has driven me to a place of complete dependency, where I can't run to a friend in place of running to Him. How easy it is, when a problem arises, to call a friend and ask, "Can you pray for me?" before I've even bothered to stop and pray myself.
It's through these lonely seasons that I've remembered, I'm never truly alone. I have a wondrous Savior at my side, who has promised that He will never leave me or forsake me.
And second, it's made me more aware of the lonely people I come in contact with in daily life. Those who have just moved into the area or have yet to find their place in a community. I admit most of the time I fail to reach out to others; often I'm too distracted with my kids. But I want to improve. I want to do better.
Today we're listening to a CD titled 100 Best Ballet. The response from my girls is more united. Two out of three jumped at the opportunity to prance around the house dressed as ballerinas. The third? Well, she decided to dress as a rock star. Perhaps she gleaned more from the Beatles yesterday than merely "campfire music."
I typically go go go seven days a week. Sure, I'm not in the office on Saturday or Sunday, but I do publish blog comments or check my e-mail or work on a freelance project. Too few days in my month would I call "restful."
A couple of days ago we published an article by Elisabeth Adams, "Heart at Leisure," in which she explores the Sabbath. Here's a part from the middle:
The Bible says, "Six days you shall labor and do all your work." I know what my work is. That's what I'm supposed to stop.
But it's not just stopping -- it's stopping in order to.
In order to debrief and defrag from the busy week. In order to remember who I am, and who my Master is. (Not money. Not man. And not myself, thank God.) I stop in order to focus on the Center of my world. Reset my clock by atomic time. Reorient my compass to true north. Renew my mind, lest the insistent world squeeze me into its mold.
And be refreshed. After my Creator completed His work and saw that it was very good, He stopped. And in that pause, the Hebrew tells us, He was refreshed as if by a breath of air.
Later, Elisabeth confesses her personal struggle with rest, Sabbath or otherwise.
Often when it comes right down to it, I don't want quiet; I want distraction. I don't want to be awakened; I want to be amused. I don't want to address my needs; I want to drown them out. God wants me to savor time; I want to spend it, fill it, and even kill it.
At other times, I'm longing for Sabbath, but I can't seem to get inside it when it comes. My mind won't quit racing, my heart won't cease aching, and I'm completely unable to stop.
Yeah, I too am longing for Sabbath. Not distraction or amusement, but quiet and invigorating rest. Maybe I can squeeze that in this weekend.
When I moved to Colorado five years ago, I was certain I had tied up all the loose ends ... until I got a collections notice in the mail about an unpaid power bill. It's an oversight that haunts me to this day when I try to get any kind of loan. Despite my exemplary record otherwise, my credit score was tainted just enough to warrant slightly higher rates and slightly lower credit limits.
It seems unfair that one infraction would cancel out 15 years of on-time payments and not carrying balances on credit cards. But according to Karen Blumenthal from the Wall Street Journal, it's just how the credit ratings game is played.
In "Credit Scores: What You Need to Know," Blumenthal tackles eight commons myths about how bureaus rate your credit worthiness. Here are a couple that explain my dilemma:
I pay my card off every month, so I must be a low credit risk.
True, your financial habits are excellent. But they won't affect your score. That's because the credit bureaus don't have a clue whether you pay your bill in full or carry a balance on your cards each month. All they know is the amount you owed on your most recent statement.
I was late on a payment, but the debt is now paid off. So I'm good, right?
Afraid not. The single most important factor in your score, accounting for 35% of the total, is whether you have paid your bills on time. One late payment will ding your score for up to a year, very late payments can hurt you for two or three years, and collections and bankruptcies can sting for up to seven years.
Simply put, credit ratings bug. But I do find some solace in the first myth Blumenthal busts:
My credit score is a good reflection of my financial smarts and good behavior.
Not really. Your score doesn't reflect your income, employment history or your assets, which should be a part of your overall financial picture. It also doesn't show whether you pay your rent or utilities on time. As a result, a credit score is less like a report card and more like an SAT score—your results on a particular date that seek to predict your future credit success or failure.
Or in my case, unintentional results that got lost in the busyness of a cross country move.
According to a recent Wall Street Journalarticle, American students are borrowing "dramatically more" to pay for college, and paying a very real price for their debt.
Recent numbers from the U.S. Department of Education show that federal student loan dispersements in the 2008-2009 school year were up 25 percent over the previous year, for a total of $75.1 billion. The Journal writes:
"The new numbers highlight how debt has become commonplace in paying for higher education. Today, two-thirds of college students borrow to pay for college, and their average debt load is $23,186 by the time they graduate, according to an analysis of the government's National Postsecondary Student Aid Study, conducted by financial-aid expert Mark Kantrowitz. Only a dozen years earlier, according to the study, 58% of students borrowed to pay for college, and the average amount borrowed was $13,172."
This large debt increase has also produced some large consequences:
"A growing body of research suggests that tough loan payments are affecting major life decisions by recent graduates, forcing them to put off traditional milestones—from buying a first home to even marriage and having children."
The article quotes results from a 2006 study of 1,508 college graduates under the age of 35 who describe how their student loan debt has affected their life choices:
39% say it will take them more than 10 years to pay off their debt
44% say they have delayed purchasing a house
28% say they have delayed having children
It also quotes one young woman who accumulated $181,000 in debt from undergraduate study and law school:
"I wish I had considered the long-term impacts of what I was getting into," Ms. Russell says. When she entered school, "the idea was I'd take out the loans, get a job, and pay it back," she says.
It seemed straightforward. But as the economy has soured, "I feel like it's shifted a lot of my life goals," says Ms. Russell, from buying a house to starting a family. "I'm really concerned about handling this obligation while taking on new ones."
This article really didn't surprise me. When I wrote about student loans and life choices, I quoted a study from Nellie Mae:
... graduate students report the highest [student debt] stress levels. "The levels are high enough to make even their relatively high starting salaries appear inadequate," the study states. In fact, 40 percent of students who did grad work in medicine, law or business have student loans exceeding their current salaries.
So, if you took out student debt, do you feel the same? Do you wish, like that young woman, that you had "considered the long-term impacts" of what you were getting into with student loans? Or do you feel you entered into debt soberly and advisedly?
So I blogged a couple of weeks ago about my "Epic eBay Fail," in which I ended up spending $6.91 more for shipping and fees than I earned through the auction.
Yesterday, picking up my mail and seeing a large envelope from the United States Postal Service, I had the sense that the story wasn't over.
I opened the envelope, and inside was the top flap from the box of computer cards I had shipped out two weeks ago. Accompanying the piece of cardboard was a letter that stated, "An empty wrapper with your address was found in the mail and it is believed to have been separated from a parcel during handling (see attached address portion of the wrapper.)"
(Sic on the bad punctuation at the end of that quoted sentence, BTW.)
I imagine what happened was that the tape that the Post Office employee had stretched across the top of my box to keep it closed ... didn't. And the 92 wireless access cards inside scattered.
So I have to refund what the auction winner paid me, hoping that he believes my story and doesn't give me negative feedback. I have to go to the Post Office and see if they can track down any of the cards, or at least refund my postage.
Time, gas, expense. Hmf.
I started to complain to my wife, but then caught myself. It struck me that I'm only able to experience this frustration because I've been blessed with the ability to make an online transaction, something most others are unable to do. Yeah, it's a mess, but there's a lot more to be thankful about than to gripe about.
I think there is a difference between not being on Facebook and being anti-Facebook. I am the former, but not the latter.
Actually, that's not true. I am not the former either. I did join Facebook two years ago in response to a youth group reunion page. But my page has sat empty and lonely ever since. (Truth be told, I didn't realize Facebook had created a page -- just thought I had gained access to the youth group page.)
So, yes, I have let the phenomena that is Facebook pass me by. But I am not a foaming anti-Facebook-ite. I really can see the draw. There have even been times when I have had Facebook-envy. I am, without question, the last one in my circle of acquaintance to get the latest news.
Them: "Oh, didn't you know that she closed on her house/is going out-of-town this weekend/has taken up knitting?" Me: "Oh, no, I didn't know that." Them (questioningly and ... or am I paranoid? ... a little accusingly): "But it's on her Facebook page."
I have even, I think, risked some professional street cred. Boundless has friended me several times. Each time, I think I hear Ted's voice, "Heather, get on Facebook and into the 21st century!"
But it appears that by missing the tide of Facebook popularity, I may now be on the cusp of the latest trend: leaving Facebook. I love going from a dinosaur to hip without any effort.
According to a recent New York Times article, "Facebook Exodus", "while people are still joining Facebook and compulsively visiting the site, a small but noticeable group are fleeing — some of them ostentatiously." Like one user who got sick of the commercialization and corporate regulation and now sells t-shirts that encourage others to "Shut Your Facebook!" The young man told the Times:
"The more dependent we allow ourselves to become to something like Facebook — and Facebook does everything in its power to make you more dependent — the more Facebook can and does abuse us. It is not ‘your’ Facebook profile. It is Facebook’s profile about you.”
Others are leaving because "Facebook seemed to claim perpetual ownership of users’ contributions to the site." Still others, according to the article, got bored, felt that their "real" friendships were suffering, or got a little antsy about "guarding" their online persona.
For me, it was simply pre-addictive intentionality. I have enough of a struggle regulating my online time. I decided, for me, best never to go there.
But I just added another reason in the last few weeks. It's summed up well by a young lady in the Times article named Caroline Harting who explains why she left the online social site: "Facebook was stalking me."
"One day, on another Web site, she responded to an invitation to rate a movie she saw. The next time she logged on to Facebook, there was a message acknowledging that she had made the rating. “I didn’t appreciate being monitored so closely,” she wrote. She quit."
I feel like Facebook is stalking me too. Two weeks ago, I checked my e-mail to find 12 messages from "friends" who wanted to, well, be my friend. Huh? How did they know to find me? Surely a dozen friends were not just moved by the Spirit to seek me out. The next day: fifteen invites. Now besides getting a little too prideful about how many friends I must have, I was starting to get a little creeped out. A day of investigation later and I found out that "Facebook" (that ironicly faceless entity) was recommending me all over the place.
"Be Heather's friend," it told them. It forgot to mention that I didn't want any.
"Quit!" I cried at my computer screen the next day as I deleted five more requests. "I don't want to be a friend. Leave me alone!" Again, not enough to turn me anti-Facebook but enough to give me the willies and bring flashbacks of that Orwell book I had to read in American Lit.
So, what about you? Are you enjoying Facebook or feeling like some of the people in this article?
One writer told the Times, "I have noticed the exodus, and I kind of feel like it’s kids getting tired of a new toy. Facebook is good for finding people, but by now the novelty of that has worn off, and everyone’s been found.”
It seems some people are tired of being found. And some of us never wanted to be.
This morning, I was flipping around the radio dial and settled for a few minutes on a ministry program. It was a ministry I trusted. A ministry that, though I haven't been a regular listener, I have been encouraged by from time to time.
As the program wrapped up, the tone turned serious. The ministry was in need of money. They were seriously behind budget. They didn't want to pressure, but they wanted to be honest: the program was in jeopardy. Would I consider praying about supporting them?
The plea, quite honestly, started to go in one ear and out the other. I've heard lots of pleas like that lately and, certainly not to my credit, they are starting to blend together. Then, for some reason, Jane Austen popped in my head.
Now, some of you know I'm a full-on Austenfan. The manors, the kooky relatives, the inevitable marriages ... joyful fun. But it's her wit, how she can just slice through hypocrisy with a sweet-as-sugar sword, that keeps me coming back.
So, here's the section that popped into my head. It's from her book, Persuasion. The herione, Anne Elliot, is all good and noble and Austen-esque. Anne's father and sister, Elizabeth, are everything vain and selfish and doltish. At the beginning of the book, there's a problem: Dad and Sis have way overspent their means (how could they do less, after all, they have a position to uphold) and are looking for some way to get on the straight and narrow:
Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy: to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom.
Is that us, I wondered? As we struggle (or, perhaps, just worry) ourselves through a shaken economy, do we "cut off our unnecessary charities" and smile at ourselves, pleased with what good stewards we are?
I listen to radio programs. Do I support them? I read blogs everyday. Not just personal ones, but ones that the writers put serious work, research and biblical thinking into. Do I support them? If they don't have a direct route to support them, do I buy their books or give to their churches? You're reading this. Have you ever thought about contributing to the work of Boundless?
Or, closer to home, am I equipped by a sermon or small group at my church? Do I ever connect that with my wallet? Or do I just think it is the duty of others to provide for me? That God is using them in their ministries and that He will provide for them, without ever considering that He has instructed me to provide for them? To excel in the grace of giving?
Pear Analytics, based in San Antonio, Texas, said that it randomly sampled 2,000 messages from the public stream of Twitter and separated them into six categories.
The categories were: news, spam, self-promotion, pointless babble, conversational and pass-along value.
Pear said "pointless babble" accounted for 811 "tweets" or 40.55 percent of the total number of messages sampled.
Conversational messages -- defined by Pear as tweets that go back and forth between users or try to engage followers in conversation -- accounted for 751 messages or 37.55 percent.
Pear said tweets with "pass-along value" -- messages that are being "re-tweeted" or passed on by users to their followers -- accounted for 174 messages or 8.70 percent.
Self-promotion by companies was next with 117 tweets or 5.85 percent, followed by spam with 75 tweets or 3.75 percent.
It said tweets with news from mainstream media publications accounted for 72 tweets or 3.60 percent.
In an interview earlier this year on the Boundless podcast, Dr. Albert Mohler said that social media provides us with "quantum opportunity to leverage influence." It's why Boundless has a Twitter account. We try to leverage influence with "self-promotion" tweets that have potential "pass-along value."
Boundless tweets new blog posts, articles, and podcast releases, as well as giving updates about new resources like the Girl's Guide to Marrying Well.
So while most tweets may be lame, all of ours consist of meaningful information. Right?
So I figured I'd make some quick money by buying some computer stuff through a local government auction and selling it on eBay.
Last week I won a government auction for, among other things, 92 wireless access cards. Sweet, I thought. I've seen these things sell for over $10 each online. If I sell the lot of them, I should make at least $100 easy.
Well, my auction ended, and the winning bid: $1.95.
Nice.
Maybe, I thought, I might make a few dollars from the shipping fee, which I randomly set at $8.
Nope. I shipped them out today, and that came to $13.74.
Not to mention that eBay fees came to $3.12.
So, not only did I not make any money on this auction-flipping venture of mine, I actually had to pay $6.91 for the experience.
I've still got a few dozen computer cards at home, which I haven't yet put on eBay. Now I'm wondering if I should take a chance and see if I can make a few bucks off of them ... or if I should cut my losses and simply drop them in the trash recycling bin.
Yesterday, I listened to someone trying to decide between opportunities after finishing college. In describing one opportunity, she said something along the lines of "If I don't stay around to do that, I'm worried it won't get done."
In my mind, that took me back to a time shortly after I had finished college. It was the most frantic period of my life. I was working around 70 hours a week between a formal job and various commitments I had accumulated. I reached a point where I got an infection in my mouth that the doctor said was stress related. I ended up taking a retreat to evaluate all the different commitments I had made. My aunt suggested I listen to a message during my retreat. I don't remember now who the speaker was, but the message was about overcommitted people and what often drives their motivations.
As I listened to the message, I knew I was over-committed, but all along I thought I was just trying to be responsible. In fact, the book StrengthsFinder 2.0 indicates that one of my strengths is responsibility. Here's how that book describes this trait:
Your responsibility theme forces you to take psychological ownership for anything you commit to, and whether large or small, you feel emotionally bound to follow it to completion. Your good name depends on it. If for some reason you cannot deliver, you automatically start to look for ways to make it up to the other person. Apologies are not enough. Excuses and rationalizations are totally unacceptable. You will not quite be able to live with yourself until you have made restitution. This conscientiousness, this near obsession for doing things right, and your impeccable ethics, combine to create your reputation: utterly dependable.
Obviously, responsibility is a valuable trait to have, but it seemed to be pushing me into commitments that were hard to extricate myself from. I wish I had known at the time about how Tom Rath finishes the description of "Responsibility" in the StrengthsFinder 2.0 book:
When people come to you for help -- and they soon will -- you must be selective. Your willingness to volunteer may sometimes lead you to take on more than you should.
But there I was with all these commitments I had made and all I could think about was: if I don't do these things, they won't get done. The more I thought about it though, I realized that what I had perceived as noble responsibility was actually a bundle of pride, fear and a desire for approval that ended up compromising the quality of what I could contribute to those commitments.
A short time later, I resigned from my job and got out of nearly all my commitments (and then took off for graduate school). I still kind of wondered how things I was doing were going to get done without me around.I thought that again when my boss told me it would be almost impossible to replace me. But it wasn't long before someone else was sitting at my desk with their name where mine used to be. And other people stepped up in all the other commitments I had. They didn't do things the way I would have done then, but things got done without me.
And that was exactly the lesson I needed so that I could learn to make (and keep) commitments from a more healthy position.
I never struggle with watching too much TV in the summer. I'm fairly picky about what I watch and most, if not all, summer programming is just plain bad. However, Fall is right around the corner. And I'm already getting excited about the season premiers of "my shows." Which, I'll confess, is a reflection of an inverted priority ... love of television.
I ran across this blog post from Randy Alcorn which may help as I war against my desire to be entertained. It's a list of ways to "take charge of the television."
1. Keep track of how much time you spend watching. 2. Decide in advance how much TV to watch per week. (e.g. No more than six hours, only two nights or weekends). 3. Use a schedule to choose programs for the week (perhaps at family time)— then stick to your choices. 4. Keep your television unplugged, store it in a closet, and/or put it in a remote part of the house (prevents mindless flip-on). 5. Periodically "fast" from television for a week or a month. Notice the "cold turkey" effects. 6. Choose programs that uplift rather than undermine biblical values. 7. Use the "off" switch freely. If it's wrong and you keep watching, you're saying "I approve."
More,
12. Spend an hour reading Scripture, a Christian book or magazine, or doing a ministry for each hour you watch TV. (It's not enough to get rid of the bad—go out of your way to renew your mind by filling it with the good). 13. Consider dropping cable, Showtime, HBO, or any other service that you determine is importing ungodliness or temptation into your home. 14. If you find you can't control it—or you're tired of the battle—get rid of your television.
I'll add one more of my own,
15. Consider subscribing to a digital recording service (e.g. DVR or TiVo) so you can watch what you want, when you want. That way, you'll always be able to prioritize more worthwhile pursuits when they conflict with your favorite show.
All of Alcorn's suggestions are worth considering. I personally like the challenge of matching the time I spend watching television with time spent reading Scripture, books, or doing ministry. I would love to be able to say I spend as much time in the Word as I do the tube.
Ask a random group of people that question and you have a pretty good idea what answers you'll get. But what happens if you ask it to a group of religious people?
"I work primarily from home, and these telemarketing jackasses call at all hours of the day," fumes Hillary Fields, who's not actually all that mean to them, but who's awfully tempted to be. She knows that some people only do it because it's the only job they can find. Still, "when these callers have violated the sanctity of our homes in this insistent and unwelcome manner, do they deserve anything resembling courteous treatment in response?"
Seems to me the issue here isn't just what they deserve, but also what kind of people we want to be. Which means we want to be firm as we can, but also as nice as we can -- without encouraging them to keep on talking to us.
Here's what I do: As soon as I'm sure it's a telemarketer (which takes about three seconds), I interrupt and say: "I'm sorry, I'm not interested. Please remove this number from your call list." (Legally, they have to comply -- I think.) I add, "Have a nice day," pause just a second, and hang up.
The tone of voice is important here. I don't want to give them the slightest opening to keep talking, or they're under orders to keep trying. But I also want to sound as pleasant as possible. (I use my Public Radio announcer voice.) I don't want to convey anger or irritation, because calling me isn't their idea, and because they get enough of that every day as it is. I don't want them to get the idea that I'm blaming them for doing what they're told -- unless they're extra-aggressive, which I rarely give them a chance to be.
I figure this way I'm not only getting them off my back, I'm doing them a favor. I'm getting the call over with as quickly as possible so they can move on to their next call. I'm getting my name off their list so they don't waste time trying to make a sale that's not going to happen. And I'm avoiding making their day any more unpleasant than it already is.
That's me. What do you do? Or what do you think you should do?
It's not surprising that the recession has many cutting back. But what's interesting is what we're choosing to cut back on in this difficult economy.
According to this Pew study, products and services we considered necessities just a few years ago have been replaced by high-tech products and services. Take, for example, the microwave oven. I mean, who can live without a microwave? Apparently, a lot of us can if it means getting an iPod Touch.
Pew explains that "technology adoption" is changing judgments about wants vs. needs.
Take cell phones. A relative newcomer in the everyday lives of most Americans, the cell phone is among a handful of newer gadgets that have held their own on the necessity scale from 2006 to 2009. Moreover, it may have contributed to a drop in necessity ratings for the older-era appliance it has partially supplanted. The survey finds that people who consider a cell phone a necessity -- some 49% of the public, including a disproportionate share of young adults -- are less inclined than others to feel the same way about a landline phone.
Other products and services faring well in the recession include flat screen tvs and high-speed internet. And it's not just what we're buying, it's how we're buying. Which for some means saying so long to Whole Foods and hello to Super Wal-Mart.
Almost six-in-ten say they are shopping more in discount stores or are passing up name brands in favor of less expensive varieties. Nearly three-in-ten adults say they've cut back spending on alcohol or cigarettes. About one-in-four say they've reduced spending on their cable or satellite television service or canceled the service altogether. About one-in-five say they've gone with a less expensive cell phone plan, or canceled service. One-in-five say they've started mowing their own lawn or doing home repairs rather than pay others for the service. And about one-in-five adults say they are following the example of first lady Michelle Obama and are making plans to plant a vegetable garden to save money on food.
Last week on Boundless, Michael Lawrence wrote about the opportunities that exist when you're unemployed. And there are opportunities when finances are simply tighter as well. Like finding out what you value most and becoming better stewards of your money.
Say you're at the mall with some friends, just hanging out in the food court.
I don't care.
Or perhaps you just put the kids to bed and are about to sit down for the first quiet moment you've had all day.
That's nice. But I don't care.
Maybe you're in line at the Starbucks, and you're trying to make the critical decision between Tall, Grande and Venti.
Guess what? I absolutely don't care.
I don't care if you've just crafted the wittiest, funniest, craziest or most compelling 140-characters-or-less sentiment of your entire life. If it's a description of the dream you had last night, or the fact that you're currently working on your tan, or that your favorite team just ended a seven-game losing streak, then I just don't care.
Don't tweet me about it. Not now. Not ever.
On the other hand, if your wife just got pregnant after four-and-a-half years of trying, then I might like to know. Likewise if you just stumbled upon a $9.99 sale on high-quality cotton dress shirts. Or if you just finished the most inspiring article you've ever read in your life, then I wouldn't mind if you forwarded the link.
Are you getting the picture here? If you want to share meaningful information, such as where I can find discount replacement parts for my dishwasher, then Twitter away. But if the only thing you have to say is how many strips of bacon you ate for breakfast, then I hope you won't mind if I ignore your tweets, or simply stop following you altogether.
You see, I have a busy life -- just like you -- and I'm guessing that we both have more important things to do than read (or write) highly condensed complaints about how wet, dry, hot or cold it's been these last few days, weeks, millennia.
Did you want to know that I just looked up the correct spelling of "millennia" -- just to be sure? Would you like to read a tweet about it?
I didn't think so.
It certainly could be that Twitter is simply not for me. Perhaps I have somehow failed to appreciate the power of this social media phenomenon. I do see the potential, I really do. But for all the talk about "changing the rules of engagement" and "harnessing the power of real-time global communication," most of what I see is a bunch of grown ups acting like kids. For them, no thought, no action, no decision is too trivial to tweet to anyone and everyone who will pay attention.
As for me, I simply don't care.
But maybe that's just me.
(*disclaimer: The views of the author are not necessarily a reflection on the Twitter feed as generated by the Boundless team: https://twitter.com/BoundlessTeam)
According to USA Today, more and more couples are saying 'I don't' to expensive weddings.
According to the article, those brides and grooms feeling the economic pinch personally are deciding to scale back on many of the traditional wedding trimmings while those who can still afford lavish weddings are striking a "more sensitive, subdued tone."
A March survey by wedding website The Knot found 40% of brides have reduced their budgets, typically by 16%. Editor in chief Carley Roney predicts that as couples start planning their nuptials, those figures will rise....
Meanwhile, The Knot has seen a jump in activity on its Trash to Treasure message board, a forum for offloading gear such as tiaras, cake toppers and batches of bridesmaid dresses. The company also has launched a blog, My DIY (or Do It Yourself) Wedding Day, "because attention on that topic was so strong," Roney says.
Some wedding industry leaders believe that this switch to more frugal weddings may be permanent:
Once there's a correction in the marital marketplace, brides are going to remember the bargains their sisters and cousins bagged during the downturn and wonder, "Why can't I do it now?" says David Tutera, who plans weddings for A-list and Everywomen alike, the latter on his WE TV show, My Fair Wedding. "We're re-looking at things."
According to The Wedding Report, the average cost of a wedding fell by 24% from 2007 to 2008, though it still hovered around the MSRP of a Honda Accord.
So what's a long-time-frugal or newly frugal bride to do? Well, here's my top three:
Cash on the Barrel, or Altar.Please don't go into debt for a wedding. Please, please (See #6). Money always lands somewhere in the top 3 reasons that couples divorce. No need to start yourself off in a nice, deep financial hole.
Spend It Where It's Important. I had about 300 monogrammed, navy napkins left over after my wedding. Seriously, my hubbie and I were still using them at our second anniversary. I'm not sure one wedding guest remembers how they wiped their mouth at my reception. I do, however, still have my professional wedding photograph next to my bed. Decide what's really important to you and what you'll remember 10 years later and spend your money there.
Check out all the really good ideas the Boundless Line readers had the last time we blogged about frugal weddings.
Oh, and one more thing. I've been to six-figure weddings and I've been to three-figure weddings. Far beyond the flowers and ice sculptures and jazz bands, the most beautiful thing at any ceremony was the presence of the Holy Spirit around a couple who praised our Lord.
Yesterday on his blog, Randy Alcorn answers a question from a young couple who are $100,000 in debt and wondering about how much, if any, they should be giving to the church.
The couple acknowledges that they are "reaping consequences from bad choices." But now that they are attempting to pay down the hundred grand of studentloans, they are getting different advice on where giving should fit into their budget. They ask:
We have been counseled in a number of ways on this. One is that you continue giving SO THAT God will meet your need (which is much like the "prosperity gospel" and we believe the motive for giving is not right). Then we were taught that we need to be faithful, even if the budget is tight, to give at least 10%, and that that should be our FIRST check we make out each month (even if we know we won't make our other bills) as evidence of the priority of God and His church in our lives. We've also heard it taught that since we're in debt, our money is not our own so we need to work really hard to pay that back so that our money is freed to give back to God.
I understand what you are saying about the heart of giving, but I was wondering what is the biblical approach in these situations?
Alcorn addresses many points in his answer, but here are a few highlights:
"I disagree in the strongest possible way with those who argue that since we're in debt we shouldn't give to God until we get out of debt."
"I agree 100% with the position that we need to be faithful in our giving, maintaining it in difficult times and increasing it if we haven't been giving much in the past. Often our lack of giving has been a large part of our financial problem. Certainly, it is never a solution to it."
"Debt is especially dangerous when we’re tempted to rob our primary creditor (God) to pay our secondary creditors (people)."
"We owe the first fruits to God, not the last fruits. Those who put God first will pay off their human creditors, while those who put human creditors before the divine Creditor always get into trouble."
"If by giving to God we can no longer afford to make payments on a loan, then we need to liquidate our assets, take losses where we must, and cut spending to a minimum to eliminate the debt."
I really enjoyed Tim Challies' article today comparing reading books on the Kindle with reading books on, well, bound pages with a spine and everything. Here is Challies on why he prefers ink on paper:
Its book-like qualities were its best qualities; its non-book-like qualities were the ones that got to me. All of the things that annoyed me were the things that made the experience more like operating a computer and less like reading a book. Pages took too long to turn; I could not splash yellow highlighter on the pages; I could not skim through the book looking quickly for a word or phrase or note; I could not scrawl notes in the margins.
Not that there aren't benefits that come with a Kindle like being able to transfer notes to a computer through a USB port or free access to classics. But for all its benefits, Challies explains that, "Everything I wanted the Kindle to do, a book could do better."
Books are the perfect technology. I'm convinced of it. This is why the Kindle experience failed me -- it was an attempt to make the book better. And this is impossible to do. There is no technology more perfectly suited to its purpose than this one. In comparison to the book, any e-reader falters and fails.
I sort of feel the same way about reading my Wall Street Journal. I love the experience of it. I love the look, feel, smell and sound of it. (Yes, the WSJ has a sound.) I love sending my boy to fetch it in the morning. I love reading it in my favorite chair with cup of coffee on the side table.
I hope all the print-is-dead talk is wrong. There are so many ink-on-paper experiences that would be missed if we go the way of the e-reader.
I’m editing a pre-marriage module for the Focus on the Family marriage subsite. One of the articles I'm trying to cut down is First Year Off by Jonathan Dodson. He wrote it for Boundless a couple years ago. I've had to take off my reading glasses and have a come to Jesus moment here in my cubical over this article.
That's the thing about working at a Christian webzine, if your heart's sensitive to the Holy Spirit the stuff you have to edit, read, and write can really be convicting. (I guess that's not so much the thing about working at a Christian webzine as just being sensitive to the Spirit. Which unfortunately, I'm often not.)
The first part of the article made me feel pretty warm and fuzzy about my upcoming nuptials but as I neared the last section Jonathan's words began to rub against one of my idols: efficiency.
Here was the conversation I had with Jonathan (in my head) as I read. The brackets are the things that Jonathan didn't actually say. Ted said that in real life Jonathan is a nice guy, so I'm sure he won't mind too much that I'm putting words in his mouth.
***
Jonathan Dodson: Time isn't money and efficiency isn't the highest virtue—
Ashley Harris: WHAT?! Who told you that? Well whoever it was…they lied. Efficiency most certainly is the highest virtue.
Jonathan Dodson: [Wait a minute now, let me finish.] Time isn't money and efficiency isn't the highest virtue — love is — and love can be very inefficient.
Ashley Harris: Have you been talking to Brian?
Jonathan Dodson: [Brian who? And…uh…couldn’t you just read the article and stop interrupting me.]
Ashley Harris: Brian. My fiancé. All this talk about love not being efficient sounds a lot like something he would say. He’s asks me to do stuff that’s completely inefficient in time and energy saying that it’s important to him and it makes him feel loved. Like waiting on him to fix his car so we can do errands together. Me watching him change oil doesn’t make sense when I could be picking up dry cleaning and buying groceries. Did he tell you to write this?
Jonathan Dodson: [No. I’m pretty sure I wrote this article long before you got engaged. Unless you’ve been engaged since 2007.]
Ashley Harris: Okay, then. Go on…
Jonathan Dodson: [Like I was saying in my article,] a few weeks ago we got a babysitter and took an entire weekend to ourselves. This weekend occurred just before I left for an overseas trip on Sunday night. I returned on Friday to preach my first Easter sermon. Over the next two weeks I had to finalize a master's thesis, fly to Texas for an interview, defend my thesis and prepare another sermon. Oh, and there was my other part-time job. I could have really used that weekend away to work on my thesis or sermon. From a productive standpoint it was a pretty inefficient weekend.
Ashley Harris: No kidding. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but think about all the stuff I had to get done. Like last night, I had a dress fitting that took wayyyyy longer than they said it would. There were invitations to work on, and I was packing to go out of town for my friend's wedding, and I was cooking dinner, and I had the worst attitude and barely managed to ask Brian about his day—
Jonathan Dodson: [Not to be rude, but this is my story.]
Ashley Harris: Oh, right. Sorry about that. Guess I’m still a little stressed about those invitations.
Jonathan Dodson: [Invites can be stressful. But like I was saying,] efficiency isn't my highest virtue. Well, at least I strive for it not to be. In choosing to take that time off, my wife and I had one of the most intimate, fun, and insightful times we've had in a while. By taking a step back from vocational and social responsibilities at work, church, and/or school, we were able to spend more time knowing and loving one another. In turn, that led to a greater relational intimacy and understanding, which fueled our marriage for the future.
Ashley Harris: Uh...I need to get back to editing your article.
***
As you can see I didn't have anything else to say to Jonathan. I was silenced by conviction. Deep down I believe that efficiency is the highest virtue even though I know it’s not. How can it be when scripture says that the greatest virtue is love?
I want to get to a place where I can choose to do seemingly inefficient things with the people I love instead of always doing what “makes sense.” I want their happiness to make more sense to me than getting things done my way.
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