I feel like I’m always a little behind the rest of the world.
I definitely got to the Jen Hatmaker party a little late, but I’m having a great time now that I’m here.
I recently finished 7, her book about simplifying life.
Just what I needed to hear at that point.
Basically, Jen took 7 areas of her life and pared them down to 7 essentials. She did each area for a month. Some of the practices made their way into her life permanently, others were for that month only.
The areas included food, clothing, possessions, waste, spending, media, and stress. For the month on food, she chose seven items and ate those exclusively for the month. In other chapters, sometimes she was limited to seven items, or she removed seven items, or instituted seven practices.
I’m trying to pare down my own excess in areas and the book helped me look at that and see that it’s doable and may not be quite as painful as I think.
Jen’s writing style is just like her on Facebook and live. She is herself. Warm. Funny. Engaging.
I got a lot out of this book and highly recommend it for anyone curious about how to get out from under the stuff that we, as prosperous and blessed Americans, accumulate as if there was a prize at the end.
I heard someone say that they hate that saying: It’s all good.
Because it’s not good. Life is hard. People will disappoint you. Nothing has been good since Eve ate the fruit and gave it to her husband. God said “It is good,” when He surveyed His creation work, but it’s been pretty much downhill ever since.
I get what my friend was saying. But I find myself saying “It’s all good” a few times a week.
“It’s all good,” is shorthand-speak for:
- “I understand what you said and I get it.”
- “I forgive you. We can move on.”
- “Yes, that was bad, but it’s not the end of the world. God is sovereign and it will work out.”
- “It may not be good now, but it will be, and I have faith.”
Am I wrong about this? What does “It’s all good,” mean to you?
I often wonder how people without a faith get through life.
Not just for the big things like cancer, catastrophes, or chemical spills, but for things like traffic jams and a tax bill and a leaky dishwasher. Or a dog in the dishwasher.
Do they rail at an unknown entity and shake their fist at the universe? Or shrug and figure it’s their turn to be swatted by the cosmos?
As a believer, life is so much easier when I know high blood pressure, crazy political rants, and gophers serve a higher purpose.
To make me more like Christ.
How does a leaky dishwasher make me resemble Jesus?
Well, if I take a deep breath and remember that God orders my day, then for some reason unknown to me, I must need to be one with dishwasher that day. I may not like it. I may not enjoy it. But it’s where I’m supposed to be and that’s good enough for me.
I hope I remember this lesson the next time I’m stuck in traffic and hungry and I know a pile of laundry is waiting for me at home.