decrease

It's been about two weeks since I've done any shopping of any kind. We're low on funds after our move and having to wait until next month before we see any significant increase in our bank account. I've gotten very creative with food stored in our pantry and freezer, and Mike's thinking about growing his hair long again since he's been so long without a haircut. I was remarking to Jenny the other afternoon that I almost don't even feel human because I haven't been shopping.

Isn't this AWFUL?

I didn't know that the craving was so strong inside of me.

And yet, I was thinking about how staying out of the stores has weakened my desire to consume, consume, consume. We don't have cable (or even a good antenna), so I haven't been harangued by commercials who are trying to make feel incomplete without their product; I haven't been in a store to check out their sales or pick up that little item that I always forget to buy and always "need"; I honestly can't think of that little list that's usually in the back of my mind of things that I "need" for myself, or for the apartment, or for Mike. My needs are met.

The Lord is such a Provider. The most I want right now that isn't a necessity might be a good glass of wine and perhaps a movie, and because He is amazing and the church is amazing, I'm walking to the next apartment building over to the Tinksters, where they have invited us to partake of just that.

I'd never really thought of myself as a "stuff" person. I'm not a packrat; I like to throw things away, give away clothes, and I don't spend that much time shopping when I have the money to do it. But maybe most Americans are "stuff" people without even realizing it, no matter how neo-hippie, progressive, or bohemian, they consider themselves to be. Our lives could be so much simpler if we let them be.