7: Month Six (I'm a schizophrenic spender)

First I should admit that I didn't want to read this book. I read a few of Jen Hatmaker's blog posts and truly enjoyed her writing, particularly the posts about adoption. After reading a few reviews and even hearing her speak about 7, I felt like the book was just chronicling the journey of one more middle class white woman who became aware of the poor through her own adoption journey.

Ahem, I don't know anything about that.

After several friends asked if I had heard of it/read it/owned it I discretely decided to read it. After all, I had shared my "one more middle class white woman" theory with everyone who asked if I read the book. (Insert foot in mouth here.)

Then I came across this great blog and online book club (Hello ladies!) and decided, why not jump right in?

Which brings me to the first thing 7 taught me about my spending personality: I'm a schizophrenic spender.

Case in point, I canceled my text package (which drives my friends CRAZY) because it costs $10 per month but dropped $400 on a fancy double stroller.

The Hatmaker's cut back their spending from 66 places per month to 7, keeping with the numeric theme of the book. Jen clarifies that "The beast we are battling is consumerism, defined as 'the fact or practice of an increasing consumption of goods.'"

I would have said that I've got this consumerism beast tamed... until the list on page 156.

• It's no big deal.
• I can afford this.
• I've worked hard for my money, so I can spend it how I want.
• I want this, back off.
• I deserve this.
• Other people spend way more.*
• I still have money in the bank.
• What's the big deal?
  (* Mine and Jen's excuse of choice.)

Ohh.

As Jen says, "Just because we can have it doesn't mean we should."

I wholeheartedly agree with that.

In theory.

As a schizophrenic spender I will deny, deny, deny myself and then... SPLURGE!

But the Vitamix was $50 off. (True comment made by me to my receipt shocked hubby.)
But the stroller was used.
But all those clothes in my closet are second-hand.

My excuses stopped dead in their tracks at the next sentence, "Just because we can have it doesn't mean we should. I marvel at how out of place simple, humble Jesus would be in today's American churches."

Wow.

Would Jesus feel out of place at my church? I don't think so... We rent our meeting space and it's old and not fancy at all and the bathrooms are smelly. That's good, right Jesus?

But what about my home?
Oh. There.

When he finished that talk, a Pharisee asked him to dinner. He entered his house and sat right down at the table. The Pharisee was shocked and somewhat offended when he saw that Jesus didn't wash up before the meal. But the Master said to him, "I know you Pharisees burnish the surface of your cups and plates so they sparkle in the sun, but I also know your insides are maggoty with greed and secret evil. Stupid Pharisees! Didn't the One who made the outside also make the inside? Turn both your pockets and your hearts inside out and give generously to the poor; then your lives will be clean, not just your dishes and your hands. "I've had it with you! You're hopeless, you Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books, tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but manage to find loopholes for getting around basic matters of justice and God's love. Careful bookkeeping is commendable, but the basics are required.  Luke 11:37 - 42 (The Message)

I've hidden under the veil of "frugality", judging others for not being as sacrificial as I am, all the while my insides are maggoty with greed and secret evil.

I canceled my data package.
We sold our second car.
We've never had cable or a land line.
We tithe and maintain careful bookkeeping. 

I've missed the point.

So now what?

Thankfully, Jen gives three easy shifts we can make, starting today:

One, nonconsumption. Going forward, I'm going to stick with the "wait a month" rule Jen outlines from the book Serve God, Save the Planet. "One of three things will happen. One: You will forget. Two: You will no longer need it. Three: You will need it more."

Two, redirect all that money saved. I am easily and joyfully on board with this one. In addition to suffering from schizophrenic spending, I also suffer from it's guilty cousin, buyer's remorse. But you know what? When I buy something that is fair trade or supports an adoption or a family in Kenya or a refugee from Nepal, I never feel guilty. Ever.

Jen takes number two the direction of microlending, which I LOVE and suggests you check out www.kiva.org. And you should.

Three, become wiser consumers. See my interpretation of two above. As Jen says "With watchdog groups like Not For Sale, free2work.org, change.org, and others now that consumers are denouncing human trafficking and slave labor, there is no excuse for ignorantly supporting a corrupt supply chain. The reason a shirt is $4 is because a worker was paid $.10 to make it; insistence on the cheapest prices is at the expense of freedom or living wages for workers."

I think I'm a wise consumer but too often conveniency takes the game and I end up with a $4 shirt because I waited until the last minute or a kid has to pee/is hungry/is tantruming/fill-in-the-blank.There is much room for improvement.


So what about you? How do you fight this consumerism beast? What changes will you be making as a result of Month Six?

(Oh, and Jen, if you happen to read this, please forgive me for being the judgmental, embarrassingly honest person that I am? I really liked your book. Thank you for doing what you do.)