Tag Archives: Cost

People often ask me how I'm doing now that I'm exiled in Zone 6.

I tell them "it’s ok, I’m ok." And I am.

But I am also scared.

I am scared that before I know it I will slip into a living coma of a comfortable & complacent suburban life.

I am scared that I’ll begin to confuse the lines between want and need.

I am scared that I won't even notice when I begin to think that neighbours parking outside the wrong house is a crime punishable by getting lost in IKEA for an eternity.

I am scared that I’ll have a 9-5 office job that I don’t really like but am too afraid to leave – because without that I wouldn't know who I was?

I am scared that living in anything but a house with a garden will become unimaginable.

I am scared that I'll start reading the Daily Mail.

I am scared that as I get lulled into a false sense of security my dreams will start to shrink, as will my reliance on the God I love and try to serve.

I am scared that Waitrose will become the norm not a luxury.

I am scared of a life of  No Adventure

I am scared I will get Stuck.

I am scared that one day Jesus will put me in a group with my fellow goats – Matthew 25 y’all, I don’t actually think I’ll turn into a goat, bah!

I am scared that I’ll become a goat and not even care.

I am scared that one day I will realise how comfortable I have become and be too afraid to change it.

I am scared that I will no longer believe that Jesus is enough.

I am scared that I will trivialise the concerns and worries of my fellow suburbanites.

I am scared that I will blame the suburbs for my own laziness.

I am scared that I don't really understand the meaning of perfect love casting out fear (1 John 4 v18).

I am scared that I over dramatise everything.

BUT I do know that God is with me always, even until the end of the age (not infact a LOTR quote but Matthew 28 v 20). So really what is there to be scared of?

What about you, are you scared of anything?

Watch this:


For real. You will not regret it. Best 41 seconds of the day.*


Poor kid. You can see The Fear. You can see he most definitely regrets his actions. You can see he has an understanding of wrong and right. You can see that he's frantically searching for a way out, anything to help him escape punishment and "the cawps". And then he lands on the one thing he hopes will save him, "I'm your son! I'm your son!" He places his hope of salvation in his relationship with his mother, trusting that it will save him (can you see where I'm going with this yet?).


The fear of God.


Maybe if I understood the Awesome** majesty of God better I would be more like this kid when I consider my actions. Because I'm pretty certain that one day I will stand before God pleading, much like that child, "I'm your daughter. Jesus has saved me. Jesus has saved me." If I were of a more charismatic persuasion I would definitely be 'pleading the blood.' And quite rightly so.

Sometimes its easy to forget that God is Holy - is sacred, is pure, is perfect. Sometimes its easy to forget that a sacrifice was made so that we could freely approach God and ask for forgiveness. 

 
Maybe, if I had half as much fear as this kid I would examine my motives more often and think three hundred times before making a decision. 

Not that we should live bawling our eyes out everyday. But a healthy amount of trepidation wouldn't go amiss.


 

*Unless, like one of my flatmates, you just think its horrible that he's so scared. Maybe I just need a Sense of Humour Adjustment. 

** Please note the correct use of awesome. It's not a word to be bandied around for every situation like that Christmas present you keep re-gifting but seems to find its way back to you. 

Shout out to my brother who first notified me of this internet gold. Shout out to the mum who managed to drive and film this, and then uploaded it to the world wide web.

So I’m standing in my most favourite stationary store of them all (Paperchase of course), a notebook in each hand trying to decide between the two products.
In my right hand I have the Hippy Central notebook – made from recycled paper and using vegetable based inks only (although maybe a real hippy would make one out of dead leaves they found in the street instead of buying one).
In my left hand I have the notebook version of a banker – straight lines, white paper and the ink is probably made out of baby panda spleen. Not a hint of anything recycled or environmentally friendly in sight.
The hippy notebook has 100 less pages than the banker notebook. The hippy notebook has yellower (is that even a word?) pages than then banker notebook. The hippy notebook doesn’t have a spiral spine or perforated pages. But the hippy notebook costs £2.50 more than the banker notebook.
Decisions decisions.
Do I stick to my principles of trying to be environmentally friendly but pay more for a slightly lesser product? Or do I sell out and get the product that is more functional and cheaper but more damaging to the environment?
Am I willing to act on what I claim to believe even when there is a cost?
This is a question I face more than I would like.
Last week I was walking through H&M in the Eastfield Temple (the Westfield in East London – get to know!) acutely aware that most of their clothes sport labels proclaiming ‘Made in Bangladesh’ or ‘Made in Vietnam.’
Now I don’t know for sure that the workers who had to sew these labels in were being exploited but my guess is that it’s more likely than not. So what do I do? Do I buy the cheaper clothes that make a profit from someone else’s misery? Or do I save up and only get fair-trade stuff from somewhere like People Tree?
Am I willing to act on what I claim to believe even when there is a cost?
Are you willing to act on what you believe even when there is a cost?
I am pleased to say that I put the banker notebook back on the shelf and proudly took my Little Hippy Notebook to the till.
But I did get the clothes from H&M (birthday present for my brother. He will almost certainly take them back though. It’s the thought that counts right?).