Fluff the Magic Dragon

A significant date in the secular world will converge with a significant date in the religious world to give me significant pause. April 15th stamps the due date for tax collection and March 1 will mark—literally—those of us who honor Ash Wednesday.


As my husband and I completed our tax returns over the winter break (believe me, it was not because we couldn’t think of anything funner to do…), we were forced to examine—in the absolute light of day—where exactly, the resources with which we’ve been entrusted went. The process is not a particularly appealing one to us creative types; pulling out receipts and lining up invoices in perfect little piles pales in comparison to putting oil to canvas, needle to linen or voice to song.


My left-brained hubby, by contrast, gets a veritable kick out of creating Excel sheets, affixing percentages to line items and developing beautifully-colored pie charts in an effort to show me visually where every single penny is spent.


Amazing that these two types of people can happily co-exist, huh?


But as it usually turns out, the experience of examining one’s stewardship over financial resources provides valuable clues into the very essence of how well—or not—one’s life is lived. When one can clearly see the percentage going to charity versus entertainment, for example, or for increased lifestyle, one grasps a fuller understanding of where priorities really lie.


Combined with the significant upcoming event of Ash Wednesday, where Christians around the world grapple with the mystery of sacrifice, I have been forced to squarely deal with the stuff of our family. With how much we earn and how much we spend, versus how much we save and donate to those facing less prosperous life circumstances. Throw on top of that this week’s Rocket Mom Society meeting in my home where our topic will be “Getting Your Act Together: The Stuff of Your Life” and the recipe cooking up in my kitchen casts a heavily scented aroma of introspection.


So how do you grapple with stewardship and sacrifice?


I have come to this understanding through years working in investments, as a former stockbroker married to a former stockbroker, as well as teaching and counsel from people in my life whose input I value. You may profoundly disagree with my perspective, and of course I respect the fact that yours may be quite different from mine. But as I look at the stuff of life: how to acquire it, manage it, share it and leave it, I grapple with a few basic principles. Sensing the timeliness of these matters, given that March 1 and April 15 are just around the corner, perhaps you are grappling with them, too.


1) We do not own resources; we merely exert stewardship over them. We did not create the beauty of the universe; our Creator did. He can do with it whatever He chooses. He has entrusted our universe to us in the best hopes that we will take care of it wisely. Our financial resources are not really ours, either. They have been provided to us through God’s grace with the hopes that we will use them wisely, too. So I don’t think of the things in my life as “my stuff.” It’s certainly stuff—and it may reside in my home—but I merely exert stewardship over it while I’m on this earth. I will leave it exactly as I entered it: utterly naked.


2) Resources come and resources go; we need to be content with both much and with little. My family has had much at some points in our lives and we have had little at other times. I like it better when we have more. I’m human. But there are always lessons to be learned in leanness. And our family has made a concerted decision to become leaner. It will have its own rewards.


3) At some point, stuff simply becomes fluff. It’s no longer a needed pair of shoes; it’s a luxury pair added to the other luxury pairs lining our closet floors. How much do we really need, after all? I read that tennis great Serena Williams owns at least fifty tank tops. She has an affinity for them. Obviously. I admit to having an affinity for certain things, too. And I have made a conscious decision to stop my affinity. How much do I really need? At some point, we need to rationalize a freeze to spending. To freeze lifestyle. Your freezing point may have a different degree than mine. But it’s a question worth asking.


4) Sacrifice always feels better than self-indulgence. While indulging in occasional whims is gratifying and permissible on almost all counts, it never provides long-lasting satisfaction. Sacrifice, on the other hand, requires personal denial, and leaves one feeling like a positive legacy has been cast as a direct result. I highly encourage everyone to sacrifice one tenth of their resources to those less fortunate, whether you believe you are able to do so or not. Begin slowly, if you must. And work up to any amount over and above a ten percent benchmark. When we sought counsel from one of our ministers at to a “before- tax” or “after-tax” ten percent, his response was simple: “Do you want before-tax or after-tax blessings?”


5) Give thanks for each and every blessing and count them often. Take nothing for granted. Not your health nor your strength nor your relationships nor your home nor your job nor your leisure. It all comes from above and needs to be acknowledged as such.


As you sift and sort through the receipts and bank statements that in many ways define how you are living your life, I hope that you take some time to think of how you can become an even better steward…and of ways in which personal sacrifice will lead you to a more saint-like existence.


Stuff really does become fluff when too much stuff occupies your everyday spaces, your everyday finances and your everyday thoughts. That’s when it’s truly Fluff the Magic Dragon. Don’t let its fire breathe too heavily down your neck.


Blessings on your week,


Carolina