Friday, March 29, 2013
29:31 -- New life...
One voice in my head antagonizes. "Good moms buy their kids Easter clothes. Matching clothes for siblings. Look at all these cute tops and bottoms. They're cheap." And, the final blow -- "Everyone else does it."
Which, may or may not be true. However, I heard on the radio the other day that the average Easter expense per child tallies a whopping $150.
The other rationalizes. "The clothes don't matter. We have more than enough clothes hanging in our closets to wear something special for Easter Sunday. That's an unnecessary expense. And, besides, the holiday isn't about pastel-colored fabrics as stores would lead consumers to believe. You know this."
So I buy nothing...nothing at all. Even though I continue my search by knowing what each store offers and at what price.
By today, the nagging followed me around like insistent toddler seeking permission. I cave. I want to be a good mom who has cute pictures and builds sweet memories. Easter clothes are like birthday cakes. The baby and I head toward a close outdoor mall -- the sun feels so nice and we can walk between stores.
The first shop highlights adorable gingham shirts.
The second shop offers nothing; it's picked over by well planned moms.
The third shop boasts cute but expensive seersucker pants that, luckily, don't come in my sizes.
The clock's ticking; we return to the shirts. Pleased with my diligence and their last-minute sale prices, I pay.
Not a lot in the grand scheme of things...our western-thinking scheme that is.
But, elsewhere -- wow. $35 would be enough to provide families with daily necessities.
Safe water. Running water. Power. Clothes. Clothes that fit...and are clean.
The antagonizing voice quiets. The smaller voice invites me to reflect on needs and wants, culture and providence, self-sufficiency and submission.
The stillness of our car ride home closes with a bump up onto the driveway. The garage door ascends and while I wait, I notice something...
Which, isn't that what this weekend is really about?
The baby sleeps, so I process my thoughts by slicing about them.
And, maybe this whole inner conversation isn't really about Easter clothes; maybe it's much bigger -- like about the kind of steward I am -- which, I know, could use some new life. I'm being nudged in the manner of my 2013 One Little Word. Refine.