The sweet smell of simplicity

Last Christmas I dared to ask Jesus, “What in me brings you joy?”

I felt him answer, You are beginning to relax about money.

I laughed. I knew he was referring to the Brazil nut body butter I purchased on my holiday in Grand Forks, despite missing a sale on lotions by one day. It seemed a little trivial to be on the tip of the Creator’s mind, so I had to ask, “Why does that make you happy?”

Because you’re getting it – that money is a gift from me. And all my gifts are made to be enjoyed.

Getting married right out of Bible college with no job prospects made me into a serious saver.

Unfortunately it didn’t have the same effect on my husband.

He spent and I tallied. I took note of every 7–Eleven coffee, every computer magazine, every brand name item he purchased.

You can imagine how much joy my attentiveness brought him.

Those were the simple days of 1994, when $125 worth of groceries lasted a month instead of a week and a one-bedroom apartment felt spacious.

Fast-forward almost 10 years to diapers, music lessons, and a mortgage. In 2003 we were again without an income and this time things were a little more complicated.

Fortunately for my husband I’d thrown out the tally.

Friends couldn’t believe the way I smiled when I arrived at church every Sunday.

“So Tony must have found a job then?” they asked expectantly.

“No,” I said, grinning.

I explained that unemployment was bound to be temporary. One of us would find work somewhere eventually. At the moment, the future was an adventure, full of possibilities.

The hard part came when Tony found a job that paid half as much as the one he had lost and our lifestyle changed permanently. I begged the church not to forget about us. But as soon as they heard we had rejoined the ranks of the employed, friends stopped offering to pray. In their minds the “crisis” was over.

But the challenge was just beginning. Not the challenge of coupon clipping and cutting back (we were already pros in that department), but the real challenge of not comparing ourselves to others. Especially when we heard people who were making much more complain about their financial problems. And how does one show empathy towards the poor dears who have to “sacrifice” their vacation to finance the hot tub?

What I learned from the experience of living with little was this: simplicity is not just about spending less, or even needing less. It’s about seeing myself and others through the eyes of my Provider.

It’s being generous even when it makes no financial sense, remembering that many are poorer still. It’s rejoicing over the good things that come to those who are much richer than me, because they are my brothers and sisters.

It’s buying what I need, and even occasionally what I want, with a smile of gratitude on my face.

It means accepting the gifts God gives with open hands and not worrying about the rest.

More than the lavishness of our donations or the moderation of our spending, God values our dependence. The apostle Paul said in 2 Corinthians 2:15 that our loving Father sees our lives (not just our tithes) as a fragrant offering.

Mine smells like Brazil nut.

Angeline Schellenberg is a Winnipeg writer and member of Crossroads Church.