Shedding the Spirit of Scarcity

Not enough.

For many of us, these two words may well describe how we regularly feel in our out-of-balance, “consumer” culture. We struggle with a constant feeling of lacking something. We don’t think that we have enough money, enough things, enough social status, enough pleasures, enough resources…and maybe the biggest one…enough time. 

I call it the “spirit of scarcity.”

It’s a spirit that’s holding people captive in perpetual inaction. We fail to move, or we feel tense in our limited movement, because we constantly feel like time, money, resources, energy, etc., won’t go the distance. We are like the servant in the parable who was given one talent and did nothing with it. The spirit of scarcity can manifest itself in many ways, but here are some examples of the types of thoughts generated under its rule:

“I want to answer that phone call from a friend, but I have so many other things to get done.”

“I would love to make my home pretty, but all the home décor items I like are over my budget.”

“I wish that I could learn how to do that, but I’m not that talented…plus, when would I find the time??”

“I want to take extra time to play outside, or go on a walk, or read a couple of picture books aloud with my kids…but when will we possibly fit that in with all of our commitments?”

“I’m drawn to join that women’s Bible study, but what if it ends up being on a night that my kids might have sports practice.”

Each of these thoughts, in various ways, reveals the progression and impact of a spirit of scarcity: when a good desire of the heart arises, it is suppressed by the argument that some lacking resource makes its fulfillment impossible. When we allow this spirit to govern our choices and behaviors, we see that we either fail to pursue good desires altogether or struggle in our movement to do so by the constant feeling that such efforts are not possible. 

God wants to free us from the bondage of such a mindset and heart condition. The spirit of scarcity that keeps us from living with freedom and peace is nothing less than the voice of the Evil One. The devil loves to tell us that we are not enough, and that the resources that we have are not enough either. He’s usually telling us one of two different kinds of lies. He’s either lying about the goodness of something, or he’s lying about our capacity to experience or receive something that is good. Either we are not enough or what we have is not enough. But we have the truth we need to reject his lies. We know that we are good because our worth comes from being children of God, and we know that He has given us everything that we need to live according to His will.  

We have the truth we need to help us practice shedding this spirit of scarcity. I say “practice” because it requires paving new habits—inviting God to free our hearts and actively listening to His Word in our minds. This spirit of scarcity is one that has been constructed out of habit. It has become part of us like a skin, a skin that we desperately need to shed if we want to step out and bask in the joy of the good things that we are being invited to by our Lord.

There is one piece of additional discernment required here though. Do we feel scarcity because we have actually dissipated our resources? Is it possible that we are responsible for taking on tasks and expectations that God never meant to be ours? Is it possible that we don’t feel the capacity for the good God is holding out to us because we have taken up many things that are not good for us, things contrary to God’s will? Are we feeling a lack because we’ve drained our resources on things that God does not mean us to attend to or bother with? Have we drifted along with the current of a consuming culture rather than remained anchored in the contemplative life for which God designed us? If so, we will certainly feel the crippling grip of scarcity even more acutely. We cannot receive good things from God if our arms of full of lesser things. We have to empty our arms and our lives of such things before we will be able to accept the good desires he is placing on our hearts. 

The next time that you encounter a sense of “lacking” rise up within you, recognize it for what it is. Discern whether it is of your own making or if you have adopted the lies from the enemy. Ask God to reveal the truth to your heart and open up your eyes to the “yes” he is making possible for you. When next the devil tries to squash good desires or deflate the Holy Spirit’s imaginings in your heart, see that moment as an invitation to co-operate with God’s plan for your life. God doesn’t want His children to live with a spirit of scarcity. In God’s economy, in His contemplative mode of existence, there is always more than enough. There is abundance. The well does not run dry. Jesus said to us, “I came that they might have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)

Copyright 2020 Jessica Ptomey

Faithful, Not Perfect

Much of my writing stems from an internal call I’ve been hearing the Holy Spirit speak to my own heart. Lately, His still small voice has been reminding me what it is that I’m actually called to in daily life, and that is faithfulness. When I hear that reminder, it feels like a soothing balm to a soul that can quickly become infected with an external pressure toward perfectionism. By perfection, I’m not talking about the biblical call of Christ to “be perfect…as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48); because we know by that our Lord means for us to surrender our weakness to the power of His strength and grace, which will be made perfect in us (2 Corinthians 12:9). 

I’m talking about a mindset that measures success—in all areas of life—by whether or not my responsibilities have been done exactly according to an objective standard and process of human perfection. Self is savior where the perfectionist mindset takes root. Such a mindset is the antithesis to which the Father calls His children, for it moves us away from relying on His will and His gift of grace by which we are able to accomplish our work. 

A heart aimed at the goal of faithfulness, rather than perfection, is daily in tune with the voice of the Father. Our God is never saying to us, “Perform, impress, excel, earn my love.” Instead, His call is to “rest, obey, listen, love, surrender, give, receive.” We serve a faithful God who calls us to a life of daily faithfulness. I emphasize “daily” because I believe that God is only ever asking us to live one moment at a time. 

In fact, faithfulness has everything to do with the present moment, not all of the possibilities coming down the line. We see this truth echoed again and again in the lives of the saints. These faithful men and women kept their eyes on Jesus in the present moment. Certainly, they brought Him into plans for the future; but they didn’t live consumed with what was coming next. They lived day-by-day, knowing well that they were not promised tomorrow and that today contained enough with which to occupy oneself (Matthew 6:34).

If we are to be faithful stewards to our Lord, and experience His peace in that endeavor, then we must walk ourselves back to living more in the present moment. I think that when we do this, we are much more inclined toward His plan, rather than our own. We are able to let go of all expectations that we place upon our own shoulders. We simply ask, “What have you given me to do today, or in this moment, Lord?” He will reveal it. We may need to apply the process of discernment and quiet listening to His direction. Living moment-by-moment with our faithful God, we become more faithful. As we are being transformed, we more readily recognizing the contrast between a faithful life and one imprisoned in the confines of perfectionism:

  • Perfectionism tries to control; faithfulness surrenders.
  • Perfectionism piles on unrealistic tasks; faithfulness asks God what He means us to carry.
  • Being bound by perfection, we always feel like our efforts fall short; drawn by a faithful God, we give simply what we have to give.
  • The perfectionist holds tightly to the desired end result; the faithful servant puts the result into God’s hands.

God is only asking us to be faithful with the specific task He means for us to do in the present moment. We will realize peace and contentment when we surrender to that act for love of Him and place the result in His hands. We are only asked to be faithful with what we have to give; our faithful God is in charge of the rest. We will certainly have days where we fail, when we listen to the wrong voice and fall prey to the desire to control. Thankfully, our God’s faithfulness is steadfast (as we are told repeatedly throughout the Psalms), and He never fails us. His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). We are called to faithfulness, not perfection. Let us walk in that calling; and may that truth pull a burden off our shoulders and put a peace-filled smile on our faces.

Living with Wonder

I recently read Josef Pieper’s Leisure: The Basis of Culture. It had been on my list for a while, and it’s one of those rich classics that immediately gets you asking yourself, why did it take me so long to read this?! I regularly find myself considering the implications of his central theme: we are made to be contemplative beings, people poised in a posture of wonder as we continually ponder God and ultimate reality—the most real, most essential things. In short, he describes “leisure” as the space that we cultivate—physical, mental, spiritual—to live in a way that allows such ongoing contemplation and wonder. 

In considering these thoughts, it is apparent to me how totally opposed life in the modern world is to this posture of contemplation. Our greater American culture is one of consumption; we consume products and people in an effort to ever increase our position in society to consume to a greater extent. Work and busy activity is unending, and true leisure is scarce. We live in a world that makes it hard to establish the space necessary to experience wonder; and if we do occasionally pivot to a contemplative stance, it is something that seems impossible to maintain. So often, this cultural description is the same for Catholics and other Christians, who have to actively reject the culture of consumerism and intentionally foster contemplative lives.   

Pieper describes what is required in order to live in wonder. He says, “The really human thing is to see the stars above the roof, to preserve our apprehension of the universality of things in the midst of the habits of daily life, and to see ‘the world’ above and beyond our immediate environment” (p. 122). This means that we have to find a way of living in the world that does not interfere with our contemplative stance, with our ability to “apprehend” the universal things of greatest importance to us as human beings. 

We need to be people that marvel at truth, beauty and goodness as we live in each moment of life and accomplish daily tasks. We must experience wonder not in spite of the experiences of everyday life and the world around us, but because of how we have positioned ourselves within the world and within those experiences. Pieper says that “the deeper aspects of reality are apprehended in the ordinary things of everyday life and not in a sphere cut off and segregated from it…” (p. 129).

With that in mind, have we positioned ourselves well? Are we able to live in a state that cultivates wonder, to take a contemplative stance? Can we say that we have set ourselves up to apprehend truth, beauty and goodness in all of the moments of our day? 

Or, have we failed to intentionally choose to be contemplative beings? Have we drifted with the current of our consumer culture, feeling the constant drive to accumulate and become more, rather than the freedom to bask in the leisurely rest of wonder—a wonder that only grows the more we saturate ourselves in it? 

I would offer a quick examination for assessing how well we are doing at living in wonder:

  • Where do we have silence? Where can it be expanded?
  • What are the sources of noise throughout our day that quench a contemplative heart?
  • What are distractions or oppositions to wonder? How could we remove them?
  • In what relationships are we invested, and do we have significant ones that spur us on to the contemplative life? Or do they make us feel that we need to acquire and become more?
  • What do we love? What we love we will worship. Are there inferior things that are stealing our sense of wonder?

These questions may help us start to assess the kind of lives we are living and what changes will need to take place for us to live in wonder. The more that we learn about God and the world he created the more we are aware of how little we actually know, which gets to the point of wonder, the point of a contemplative life. The end of wonder and contemplation is not the discovery of all the answers and the resolution of mysteries—quite the opposite. Living in wonder provides the constant reminder that we are finite, and God is infinite; that we can do so little, and He hung the stars. Wonder leads to love.