#simplicityday

Just one more thing won’t hurt, I think to myself, adding to my online shopping cart. It’s a tiny lie, because right now, every surface of my house is covered. My kitchen island is a showcase of unopened mail, a highchair tray covered in half-eaten toast, and toddler clothes that I don’t even have time to cut the tags off of. The funny thing is today is National Simplicity Day, but in all honesty? I want more.

It wasn’t always this way, at least for me and my husband. We took pride in keeping things simple while he was in graduate school. Our financial circumstances kept us from owning much at all. Secondhand furniture? Wearing clothes from nine years ago that still fit? Rice and beans every night? Check, check, and check.

But then we had a baby. Now I can’t take a step without tripping on her stuff. I bought all of this stuff for my daughter, so that makes it OK, right?


In my gut, I know I’m going about this all wrong. I wrongly believe nothing will ever be enough for my daughter


I buy toys that claim to make my daughter smarter, clothes that will garner compliments, enroll her in group classes in hopes that she will make more friends and excel more quickly than the other children. I want the nicest SUV that will keep her the safest and for her to attend the school that will give her an edge in life. I want all the things.

In my gut, I know I’m going about this all wrong. I know because I wrestle with discontent on a regular basis. I wrongly believe nothing will ever be enough for my daughter. My double standard of clearance rack for me and on-trend designer dresses for my daughter tells the true story: I am an undercover materialist.

Becoming a parent triggered this in me, and now it’s a constant battle for me to be OK with a simple life.

Materialism is subtle and sneaky because it masquerades as good intentions. Wanting to belong is OK. Wanting great things and opportunities for our children is OK. But when what drives our spending is comparison, fear of being left behind, or even worse, addiction, we’ve crossed over to the dark side. It’s not about stuff anymore. It’s about God, and not believing what he has given us is enough. Or that he is enough.


Materialism is subtle and sneaky because it masquerades as good intentions.


But practically speaking, how does one live simply with children? I don’t know. I’m a first time parent, and like the rest of us, I’m winging it. But I do know this: Every day I have the freedom to choose. Do I choose to keep my eyes on what works for my own family or allow them to stray and long for what isn’t mine? Do I choose to enjoy spending time with my daughter or do I wring my hands because I can’t afford to throw her the swankiest birthday party on the block?

When I’m “jonesing” for more stuff the most, I try to stop and breathe. Does my daughter have what she needs to thrive? Yes. Is she happy? Yes. What more is there?

In honor of celebrating National Simplicity Day, will you join me in being thankful for what you have already? Let’s enjoy being alive today, the friends we do have, the work we have, heck, even the mess on the counter tops. For just one day, let’s slow down and believe that what God has given is good. Then maybe, just maybe, we’ll have eyes to see that the stuff itself isn’t what we want more of after all.

 

Whitney Thompson is a stay-at-home mom and freelance writer based in Dallas, Texas. She has written for several publications including Advocate magazine, Prison Fellowship’s Inside Journal, and Upper Room’s Teen Devozine.