Day 2: Awkward.

     I've always been kind of an awkward person. Like, I tell a joke and the punch line doesn't quite come out right. Or, I laugh at inappropriate times. Or, I wave at people who are not actually waving at me. Typically, if I don't come across awkwardly, it's because I'm super-censoring myself in my head...before I open my mouth. This is a skill I've come to love, but unfortunately, it is not fool-proof. For example:
     I was walking in downtown Roanoke with my Mom and Dad at about 10pm-ish. We were chatting. We're always chatting. It's our thing. While passing storefronts, my Mom, a self-professed purse-connoisseur, was window-shopping for purses. I explained that the term "purse-connoisseur" was not, in my opinion, an accurate description, but instead should be traded for the "term purse-aholic". She agreed that she had too many and added that she should find a cute consignment shop to sell a few in. Well, to fairly warn you, I project all of my 7 ideas on other people now. It's not one of my finer qualities at this particular stage in my life. Typically, people entertain my slight suggestions as to what they can do with their excess stuff. My mom was gracious that night. I said, "Mom, homeless people are forever needing bags to carry their stuff in. Donations are great, but if there is no way to carry it, it's worthless." <Wait for the awkwardness...> As I stepped past the window-display that we had stopped at, in the alley by the store were three homeless men, looking at me. And, when I say looking, I mean looking. Chills ran through my whole body. I couldn't walk away because my whole world was grounded in that moment. After all of my attempts to rid myself of my middle-class attitude, I had a beautiful opportunity to rub shoulders with those who were hurting. Instead, I opened my big, fat mouth. And, to add insult to injury, one of the kind gentlemen, ever so cooly, said, "Nice Bag."
     As I walked away, (after I regained feeling in my legs), I couldn't get the speaker's eyes out of my head. He didn't look angry. He wasn't hostile at all. (He probably should have been, so I watched my back all the way to the car...another detail I'm not particularly proud of.) In fact, he was kind of gentle. He just made a point. I'm still middle-class, detached from the world of poverty and need. I don't understand his needs. I don't feel his pain. And, yet, I was so bold as to speak for him. As I was walking to the car, I felt a new fear rise up in me. Jesus said, in Matthew 25:45, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." I walked away. I stared a man Jesus loved in the face, offended him, and then walked away. I didn't apologize. I didn't ask how I could better meet his needs. I walked away, concerned that he might hurt me. Oh, the irony.
     May I never become unteachable because that exchange rocked me back on my heels. "Homeless people", as I so flippantly labeled them, have a face now. And, it's a face that I may never forget. And, when there is a face to go with a label, the label gets lost and all that is left is real life with real needs and real pain.


     Anyhow, I'm supposed to be resting today. So, rest, I shall, on this Sabbath.

Month 4 Challenge: Breathing Again.

Forgive my hiatus from writing last month. I can't possibly explain how busy (and, dare I say, stressful) my month was. And, I guess it's okay to admit that I've dreaded the following confession. Just for the sake of updating the 7-Faithful, last month (spending) was an utter failure in the Beaudoin household. I kind of considered glossing over the summary of our experiences, leaving out the gruesome details, but I suppose it would be more honest (and, endearing, maybe?) to tell you that we completely fell off the wagon. We started off with the best of intentions...then, we started to relax. Surely we can spend at this restaurant. After all, this is the way our families spend time together, we said. Our travel fund kind of turned into a travel splurge. And, by the third week, we sort of gave up. If I ever doubted how solidly I was rooted in our overwhelmingly consumeristic society, I was reassured last month. If any of you doubted my normalcy and personal struggle, I hope this is a clear picture that I am living in the exact same world as you are, and I am the worst offender of living excessively of us all. And, so, here we are at an impasse. We could call it quits, remembering this as a time when we gave away some stuff and significantly diminished our wardrobe. Or, we could press on...knowing that, in our weaknesses, Jesus is the most strong. Even when we fail to listen to His call to lay down our riches to follow Him, He continues to beckon. So, press on, we shall...

The Month 4 Challenge is one that I've really been looking forward to. It is most certainly the least tangible month in the entirety of 7, but it is the one area that I continually fail in. Month 4 deals with the reduction of stress. So, here is the challenge:

• ·      Observe the Sabbath from sundown on Saturday until sundown on Sunday. I mean, really observe the Sabbath. No house-cleaning, no obligatory activities that are not innately stress-free, no cooking (can't say I'll protest that one). Complete observation of the Sabbath. 
• ·      Observe 7 times of prayer everyday. Those times are as follows:

o   The Night Watch (midnight, or 12am)

o   The Awakening Hour (dawn, or 6:00am)

o   The Blessing Hour (midmorning, or 9:30am)

o   The Hour of Illumination (noon, or 12:00pm)

o   The Wisdom Hour (midafternoon, or 2:30pm)

o   The Twilight Hour (early evening, or 5:00pm)

o   The Great Silence (nighttime, or 9:30pm)

            During these prayer times, our family will be reading through Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. Essentially, where every other month was grounded in the physical expulsion of excess in our lives, this month is all about ridding our lives of time wasted on stressful activities.

            This month couldn’t come at a better time for our family. At one point last week, I sat on my couch and looked around our house in wonder. My son was crying for me to hold him. My husband looked worn out. There were dishes in the sink, in the floor, on the mantle. Laundry was piling up, my checkbook paperwork was spread out in front of me…right beside my “To-do list” that was a mile long. I just breathed in and put my head in my hands. I made the choice to book my life so tightly, and my husband and son are the ones to pay. This can’t possibly be what God intended life to look like.

            So, this month, we will be tackling our craaaaaazy schedules, and taking time to continually re-center our lives with the One who numbers our days. Every other month seems sacrificial to me. This month is a breath of fresh air. In 7, the book, Jen Hatmaker saves this month for last. We broke the rules and stuck it right in the middle. It’s time to let our lives follow a rhythm that predictably turns our attention toward our Lord.

            I’m kind of excited.

Day 1: Dear Chick Fil-A, Let me explain.

Month 2 is over. I guess I thought I’d be a little more pumped to regain full access to my closet. ‘Tis not the case, though. I woke up this morning feeling a little blue. As I started digging into my jaded-ness, I came to a conclusion. 7 has ruined me. I should have been tickled to death to sport a color other than black or purple. But, eh, I had a closet full of clothes and absolutely no emotional connection to them. I half considered giving everything away and sticking to my 7 pieces permanently. (Then, I remembered how much I missed my yoga pants and I re-considered.) The whole ordeal was tragic and beautiful. Tragic because I realize how little I care about the crazy array of clothes I still own…even after Month 1. And, beautiful because I feel a little closer to the heart of Jesus. That’s a bold claim, I know. I just can’t see Jesus standing in front of His closet hemming and hawing about what goes with what and what He’s in the mood for. But, alas, it is time to put away my Gap jeans for a season so that people don’t start donating clothes to me. 

Anyhow, on to Month 3. Here’s the challenge:

·      Spend money in only 7 places. All month.

·      Our 7 include:

o   Kroger Gas Station

o   Kroger (We figured that combining gas and groceries would be cheating.)

o   CVS Pharmacy

o   Bill Pay

o   Severely Limited Travel Fun

o   Montgomery Regional Hospital/Roanoke Memorial

o   Target (Just in case something goes bizarrely wrong. However, we hope to avoid this location. I don’t intend to use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card.)

o   NOT Chick Fil-A (although I highly considered trading Kroger for Chick Fil-A…highly.)

So far, I’ve lost all connection with my throw blankets, my kitchen tools, my purses, my jewelry, and my clothes. Now, I’m about to ruin my hometown. I can just hear Chick Fil-A, now. “What have we ever done to you? All we ever did was give you great chicken. And, we even close on Sunday!” And…ugh. I probably shouldn’t point out the fact that Chick Fil-A is currently serving banana pudding milkshakes…a seasonal item. So, we’re wasting prime banana pudding milkshake buying days. (What I’m saying is, if you happen to show up at my job with a banana pudding milkshake, I don’t think it’s technically breaking the laws of 7 and I’ll be your best friend…for life…no questions asked.)

All that is to say, last month we made purchases at 60 vendors…not counting the times we re-visited the same vendor more than once. I’m embarrassed to tell you that. It’s ridiculous! So, here we go…

Did I mention that the new Chick Fil-A—located about 1 mile from my house—is  opening for business at the beginning of May? Awesome. 

Day 19: Rescued.

Day 18: I hate my 7 clothes. Hate them.

(I decided not to post that solo. Didn't want to waste your time by making you click on the link, leave your screen, try to figure out how to get back, etc. So, it's piggy-backed.)


Day 19: I feel better today. Permit my explanation:

     There was a time when my self-concept wasn't so pretty. I shopped at consignment stores before Plato's Closet was cool. My hairstyles were about two styles too late. I'm pretty sure I even remember a matching sweatshirt and sweatpants set in my regular rotation. Let's all just cringe together....... When I was a kid, I couldn't have cared less. I was comfortable in my skin. I felt fun and lovely. Spiky ponytail sticking straight out of my head and a little off center? Whatev. I was so...unique. And, that was a good thing.

     And, then, hold your breath...middle school. My family moved across town when I started 7th grade. I changed schools, friends, worlds, really. In a new school, I felt this poison creeping into my heart. Whispers of "People are watching you" and "You don't look like the other girls". It was small, at first. But, as I have been meditating on my craving for beautiful clothes this month, I can pinpoint this moment as the moment where the lies starting sneaking in. I was so imperfect. And, girls were so...unforgiving? It just snow-balled into high school. Soon enough, I'm trading in my sweet and innocent for tight and sexy. (Then, my mom started doing the arm-raise test, the bend-over test, and the fingertip test before I walked out the door. That ended quickly.) I was stuck in this tug-of-war between maintaining the beauty of my character and looking desirable to the world. How many ladies do we lose to this battle? My heart aches to consider it.

     Even as I write this, I kind of feel a little bit of what I felt then. I was a slave, really. To advertising. To the pretty girls. To myself. I hear it said often, I wish I knew then what I know now. How differently I would have done things. Instead, I bought more clothes, flaunted my sexuality, and let people determine my worth. And, in the end, they largely found me as worthless as they saw themselves. What a sick cycle we allow ourselves to be trapped inside.

     And, then came my Rescuer. (I sort of wish blogs had a soundtrack, so that you could hear the crazy loud instrumental breakdown that I just heard in my head. Imagine it and I'll say it again.) And, then came my Rescuer! He reached down into my worthlessness and stripped away all of the mess on His stunning canvas. He started whispering, "I made you, daughter. And, you are good." It was more than I ever dared to hope for. Over the past few years, He has begun the long process of piecing me back together, of re-designing my understanding of worth. And, while before I was trapped inside of my own suffering, He turned my eyes outward onto the same suffering of others.

     Sweet readers, this is for you. You are good. You are wonderfully crafted, a masterpiece uniquely designed by the same God who made sunsets and willow trees and fireflies. It does not matter what people think of your wardrobe, your hair, your chubby, little cheeks. (Oh wait, that's just me!) When I get to the end of my life, I can't imagine that I will ever say, "Gosh, I wish I had bought that emerald green tank at The Gap." What I hope I will say is that I loved the broken-hearted. I fed the hungry. I took care of the orphans. God made me so much more beautifully than any re-design I could give myself. He did you, too. Don't try to re-design something that is already perfect. <3

Day 11: You're Going to Laugh...Smile, at least.

     Good story for you, sweet readers. I got peed on today. Awesome. I was holding a precious 3-year-old...minding my own business...when I felt something warm come across my side. Oh, that feeling when you get peed on...Wait? That doesn't happen to anyone else?! Getting peed on is never a thrilling experience. But, now, 1 shirt (out of 5!) is out of commission for, like, 5 washes, at least. Plus, this shirt may forever be considered the pee shirt. I'm not even going to tell you which one it is. Then, you'll call it the pee shirt when it makes its inevitable return into the rotation. Ah, the glamour of 7...

     Anyhow, glad you enjoyed that. A few folks have asked about the logistics of Month 2. So, that's really my purpose in this post. (And, now that I've motivated you to participation with my opening anecdote, consider how you might make modifications to the challenge in your own 7 adventures!) 

     I will say before I tell you, logistically, how this has all played out, that our over-arching rule this month has been to respect the spirit of the law, but not necessarily the letter of the law. The point, after all, is to understand that our worth is not based on our outer appearance. I do not need a lavish wardrobe to define who I am. My worth comes from the Lord and the value that He places on me. Psalm 139 teaches that God made us and calls us wonderful! Verse 14 of that chapter says, "I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." God does not, in fact, look on our Gap Jeans and say, "Those jeans really accentuate your curves. I kinda got the job started, but the jeans, mmmm, they complete you!" No way! God wonderfully made us and loves every inch of His creation. So, Month 2 is about stripping back all the fleeting self-confidence that comes from a well-constructed piece of cloth and filling that emptiness with the worth that comes directly from the Master Creator. So, as we move forward, you will see that the accommodations we've made abide by the Spirit of the law, if not by the letter. 

1. I picked 5 shirts, 1 pair of jeans, and 1 pair of softestpantsever. 
2. I didn't include shoes in the 7 items, but I wear 1 pair of black flip flops, mostly. I'm just trying to be a minimalist here.
3. I break 7 to go to the gym. I have 2 gym tanks and 2 gym capris. My co-workers appreciate the lack of crossover in this area.
4. I do wear my 7 clothes to work. I cleared this with my sweet boss ahead of time so that she didn't feel compelled to offer me a raise when I wore the same clothes over and over and over and over.
5. I'm breaking 7 on one day during the month. Mike and I are accompanying Matt and Holly, our darling Mr. and Mrs.-to-Bes, on a taste test for their rehearsal dinner. They may never forgive us for looking like bums on such an occasion... Although we hate to break 7, I can't say the reprieve will be altogether unwelcome. 
6. I wear pajamas. 
7. I'm okay with jewelry, I think. I wear my wedding band and engagement ring. I wear some simple pearl earrings. And, occasionally, I sneak in a pair of the cutest, big, round, flowery, black-and-white, hang-down earrings ever. I'm trying. I'm not a saint. :)
8. Aside from The Day of the Breaking of 7 and the hour of gym time everyday (ahem, I mean, two days a week...), I wear these clothes. I'm talking church, work, meetings, dinners...everywhere. 

     I think that about covers it. If you have other questions, feel free to post them here or on Facebook. I'm glad to answer. I love that so many of you are jumping on board and I'm happy to share the logistics as you start your own journey. 

    One closing tale. Enjoy this conversation with my Brother Bear from yesterday:

Travis: How long is this 7 clothes thing going on?

Me: Until the end of the Month. 

Travis: Oh. Well, I feel like you wear that shirt all the time.

Me: I've worn it twice. 

Travis: Oh. 

Day 10: Mike Speaks.

     Someone recently asked for a my perspective on the entire 7 adventure that has overtaken my wife and family. So in return, I will do my best to communicate how my wife is throwing out all of our stuff, I mean, communicate how the journey is going.

     My first goal in writing will be to motivate you to consider taking up 7, or something like it, in your own household. I encourage you to do it as a family. Bring discussions that are of value to your home and dining room table. Men, lead your family spiritually as well as financially and physically. Allow Jesus in the front door so that He is the person who owns your home, your vehicle, your possessions, and (dare I say) your children. As I am learning, show your children how to live a close relationship to our Creator.

Consider John 14:15

                        “If you love me, obey my commandments.”

     So simple, right? This is a verse that has tormented me over the last year. If that one verse alone doesn’t scare you, then I will write nothing else of value for you. That verse should change your faith. You could say that, if we obey his commands, then our actions will show God that we love him. He will know our love by our heart and we will show the world through our actions. Conversely, if we do not obey His commands, we do not love Him. The problem is God can tell (or command) us to do some crazy things. He told people to sell all of their possessions and follow Him. Our response to such commands should be a resounding “yes”. And, even the “yes” should be genuine and heartfelt.

Can you say - loss of control! Saying and doing are totally different.

Luke 6:45 states

"A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.”

It always has to be a heart issue.

    

     I can tell you honestly that I want to follow Jesus. However, with the help of 7, I know that my heart still has a grip on the world. My first reaction to Melissa’s idea to follow this book was to view it more as a nuisance. I’m comfortable the way things are. Why? Maybe Satan would rather I not take stock of my life. He would rather me think that my excessive clothes didn’t mean anything to the teenager that gets made fun of for wearing the same shirt every other day. That my extra guitar is better served in my basement than in someone’s hands that could inspire people to worship through music.

     My prayer is that through these writings, Melissa and I will help you to reevaluate your own lives and, most of all, your hearts. In many ways, this journey has been fun for us. Other times it has been difficult. Hopefully this verse from an old hymn will help you like it helped me.  It has become my new prayer when I get tired of putting on the same shirt and pair of socks. (Relax, I’m only kidding about the socks. I wore sandals today.)

How deep the Father’s love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give his only Son

To make a wretch his treasure

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His death and resurrection

Day 6: Lights, Camera...Turn.

     First off, I just want to take a few lines to acknowledge the sacredness of this day, Good Friday, that marks the death of our Lord. Jesus, may I always remember your sacrifice and continue to feel the gravity of your pain and excruciating suffering in my place. You save me every day.

                                                              _________________

     I have a starring role in an orchestral-ish presentation of the Easter story this weekend. Okay, so maybe it's not exactly a starring role...okay, really, it's not even important enough to make the cast picture. (Although there have been jokes about my inclusion in said picture.) I'm the page turner. Literally. That's all I do. Turn pages so that my Dad, the guitarist, can play fluidly. Those of you who know my music history can imagine my lingering issues with my role in this story. Anyhow, what does this have to do with 7?!
     As I sat in the orchestra pit last night during dress rehearsal, (yes, I had to practice page turning) I experienced something that was 7 blog-worthy. This particular Easter account is told from the perspective of the Sanhedrin Council, and we see, through the eyes of Joseph of Arimethea, how the council begins to form a plan to crush the Jesus movement that was sweeping their nation. We watch Jesus fully overturn the traditions of these religious leaders. We see Him begin a movement from the bottom. He did not seek to be-friend those who were considered high in their culture. Instead, he stood beside the lowest of the low and won their affection with His kindness. In Jesus, those who were hurting found hope. This was so counter-culture. The religious leaders were furious. As I watched the Council form their plan to kill Jesus, I literally fought the urge to get out of my chair and to tell them, "Stop! This is Jesus! He just loves people! That's it." I wanted to come to His rescue. (How ironic, because He was coming to mine.) Instead, I sat sick in my chair knowing that my voice would probably have been heard in agreement with the Council not long ago. Jesus was revolutionary! He told rich people to sell everything they owned and follow Him. He told His disciples to leave everything they worked for and follow Him. That freaks me out.
     This has been nearly impossible for me to work through. I've held onto my lifestyle for so long, sincerely believing that Jesus can't possibly expect me to give it all up...and, if He does, hoping that He'll show mercy on me and understand my place in this culture. But, Jesus calls us to follow Him, and we just can't bring our stuff on the journey. It couldn't be any more clear. Let it sink in. We have to choose...Jesus or Riches. Sometimes, I'd rather try to fit through the eye of a needle.
     Certainly, I'm aware of the fact that Jesus, on stage, was really Mr. Cox with a flowing wig and fake blood. But, last night, as I sat with tears running down my cheeks (when I was actually supposed to be turning pages), I watched my Jesus die in my place...because "following Him" looks much differently on my terms than it does on Jesus' terms. I feel this overhaul in my heart...like, the down deep feeling that something's brewing, that something's happening in my soul. It's like, I'm either going to make changes or live in regret for not doing so? I feel like if I walk away from this, I'll personally break the heart of my Lord. I don't know how to eloquently show you what's happening right now, but I promised you candidness on my 7 journey. So, there it is. Funny what a little page turning'll do for ya.

Month 2: Please Don't Shrink. Please Don't Shrink. Please Don't Shrink.

     And, so the journey continues. For those of you just tuning in, Mike and I are doing 7: An experimental mutiny against excess. Basically, we're just kinda railing against this crazy lavish lifestyle we've bought into lately.  We're taking 7 areas captive and doing a kind of fast in those areas. What we empty, we want to fill with Jesus. During Month 1, we chose 7 items a day to give away to those who need them. (Currently, my guest room looks more like a Goodwill than a bedroom.) Read up on my Month 1 posts to get all the juicy details. Now, on to Month 2!

     Month 2 Challenge:
          1. Choose 7 pieces of clothing to wear all month.
          2. Put a lock on my closet and pray my dryer doesn't shrink all 7 options.
  
     My 7 items of clothing include:
          1. Black WorldVision T-shirt
          2. Purple To Write Love On Her Arms T-shirt
          3. Gray Liberty University T-Shirt (Are you catching the comfort theme, yet?)
          4. Navy Blue Lakeside Staff T-Shirt (Thanks, Lori. I always wanted to
              wear my Staff shirt in public.)
          5. White Proud Wife Baseball Shirt
          6. Gap Darkwash Jeans
          7. Softest Pants Ever. They're gray. And, capris, actually.

     I'm already starting to question my ability to fast from my wardrobe. We started Month 2 on, what, Sunday? So, on Monday, we took Malachi to the mall for Bunny pictures. I literally had to look away from the window displays. I stood at the entrance of Old Navy and felt tears stinging in my eyes. I was like Screech Powers in that "Saved by the Bell" scene. I held his arm in front of me and yelled, "Hold me back, Mike. Hold me back!" (I have a flair for the dramatic.) But, alas, I rejected the urge to add to my 7-piece wardrobe, looked down at my purple t-shirt, and remembered those who don't have the luxury of options.

     So, as Month 2 begins, I brace myself for a month of frequent laundry-doing, funny looks from those who see me often, NOT trying on 18 outfits before choosing one each morning, and learning that my life is still of infinite worth and value even when my clothing is not.

Day 31: The End...of Month 1

     I typically blog with a certain lightness of heart. I'm not particularly interested in manipulating my readers' emotions, but where God takes me, I want to share this month. Because of the 7-ish theme that's running through my life, I feel like I've been looking at everything through this lens. As it happens during most tragedies, I took stock of my life this week because I had the misfortune of rubbing shoulders with sorrow. On Monday, I found out that the Daddy of one of my 4-year-old students lost his life in a work accident. I laid beside this little girl at naptime, rubbing her hair, and knowing that I was participating in a few of the last minutes of normalcy and happiness that she would experience for a while.

     I guess, as I close out this month of emphasis on possessions, I reference this story because my student's life didn't turn upside down over the loss of her summer dresses. She didn't cry herself to sleep over a cute little purse. This little girl is not mourning the loss of her favorite doll. She lost her Daddy. She cries over losing her Daddy. She mourns her Daddy. In the end, when life is really broken down to the very basics, our stuff carries no weight. And, at the end of our lives, our stuff will all disappear. If I spend my life working to make money to buy more stuff, I missed the point completely. I can say that I love God and that I love people, but where I spend my time and money speaks much more loudly than words. May I never be found in a mall when there is Kingdom work to be done. And, as I round out this Month with such a sigh, I find myself whispering, "Come, Lord Jesus, Come." May he redeem our selfish, consumeristic world with humility and selflessness.

Day 23: Relapse.

     Well, if I'm going to boast my successes, it would only be fair to admit my failures. Allow me to set the stage. Yesterday, I posted some inspired words about letting go of my possessions to chase something greater. You would think I'd be coming off of a serious 7 high...immune from the consumeristic culture we're immersed in. Not so.

     I told Mike he could pick the restaurant at which we were going to eat...as long as I got a Bubblecake. Bubblecake. The gourmet cupcake shop that is nothing if not irresistable...irresistible...I don't know. Anyhow, I was craving a Creme Brulee cupcake. You know, a vanilla cupcake with creme brulee icing fired with a culinary torch? I could eat another one right now............

     Back to the story. I was tasked with running in to get the cupcake. I jogged through the cold rain, found my cupcake, ordered, paid, and that's when it happened. I looked to my right only to find a pretty little basket filled with the cutest t-shirt I have ever seen. (The cutest one? EVER? Really?! I'm so ridiculous.) It was white, with black three-quarter length sleeves, and a PINK cupcake stamped on the front. It was made of the softest, worn-it-for-ten-years fabric. I could envision myself snuggling in it. I could see myself licking the creme brulee icing off of my fingers while wearing the t-shirt. I had to have it. I felt that feeling welling up inside of me. I must have looked crazy to the saleslady who was staring at my inner struggle.

     I turned my Visa around in my hand. I looked at it. Then, at the t-shirt. At the saleslady. Then, I did it. I RAN. I'm talking full-sprint out of Bubblecake. To passers-by, I'm confident I looked as if I'd just held up the gourmet cupcake shop. I got in the car and said, "Drive." It was like a scene out of a Bonnie and Clyde movie. (I've never actually seen a Bonnie and Clyde movie. This is merely an assumption on my part.) I told Mike about my brief love affair with the shirt. I considered demanding that he turn around and take me back to the cupcake shop. I told him to talk me down!!

     Finally, my precious husband said, "It's JUST A SHIRT! We are fighting against this, Melissa. This is what 7 is all about. Right here. This moment."

     I felt bad. He was right. (This is not a statement I frequently make.) 7 is great when my head is in the game. But, if I let down my guard for 8 seconds, I'm sucked back into the whirlwind. This was the moment when I realized that I'm training myself for the rest of my life. I'm re-writing my attitude toward acquisition. I don't want 7 to be a season. I want it to re-teach me how to live. Because, even if I did just reject the cutest shirt ever in life, I got up this morning and my life was lacking nothing.

Day 22: Don't Waste Your Life

The Beaudoin house has been a-buzz with Spring cleaning this week. How appropriate as we round out week 3 of 7. As you might recall, our challenge was to give away 7 things a day. Every day. Originally, we decided to give away 7 things as a family...not sure if we were going to be able to reach our total of 217 items. We completely underestimated how much stuff we have. So, we decided to go solo...trying to give away 7 things per person. And, independently, we have surpassed our goal. Beautiful.

Month 1 Goal: 434 items.
Month 1 Current Total: 446 items.

I told Malachi that his room is next. He clapped. Even he's getting in on the action.

Every closet has been cleaned, every drawer emptied, every corner inspected, every bed flipped, every shelf de-cluttered. As we were cleaning out the last room today, Mike and I had this conversation:

Me: I feel like I can breathe again.
Mike: Because you're not dying slowly from all the dust accumulated on this crap?
Me: Well, that, and I feel like this is more like what life is supposed to look like.

Stripped down. De-cluttered. Clean. Humble.

As the month has progressed, I've felt this growing disconnection with our stuff. Mike held up a tall Dr. Seuss-like, VT hat during our cleaning today. After we laughed about the prospect that he might ever wear it again, I commented on how happy a little boy will be to have a Hokie hat. I can see a little girl with a string of pearls on. I can see a mom with a new purse. I see a dad able to fix his kid's bike with his new tools. I can see a teenager posing in a new pair of jeans. I can see a cold family bundled in their new fleece blankets. I don't see myself in these things anymore. It just made giving them away that much easier.

Oh, that I can live with such an eye for meeting the needs of others everyday. My excess gets in the way of following Jesus more humbly. And, in the end, if I keep chasing stuff, I will have wasted my life. Wasted it. Loving God and Loving People. That's all there is. If I am not in the pursuit of loving God or loving people, what I am pursuing is worthless. So long, throw pillows, drill bits, earrings, sheet sets, guitars, towels, t-shirts, dining room table. I am trading you for a greater chase.

Day 11: The Tale of the Mason Jar

     At the start of 7: Month 1, Mike and I planned to give away 7 items each day for the entire month. With that goal in mind, by Day 11, we should have accumulated 77 items to go out. 

     Want the current total? 320 items. 

     I guess I thought this would be hard. When I explained Month 1 to my friends, the repeated response was, "7 things? Everyday?! You'll have nothing left!" I assure you. My house is plenty stocked...almost embarrassingly so, considering the amount of extrication we've done. I've been through my closet, my bedroom, my jewelry chest, my kitchen, my pantry, my linen closet (that was scary), my living room, and my dining room. That's the whole first floor. And, the most bizarre part? I feel like I've sacrificed nothing. I haven't missed even one item. As I added things to the "give away" pile, I grew more and more distant from my stuff. It's just stuff! I walk into the 7 storage room in our house (it's getting a little crowded in there) and I feel relief...not sadness.

      Now. I have an admission to make. I feel guilty telling you about it. But, tell, I shall, because you will likely enjoy the story and I need to make a point. I have a thing for Mason jars. They're just cute. They hold fireflies, lemonade, flowers, and pretty much anything Southern. Anytime I can slip a Mason jar into the situation, it gets infinitely better. When I hold one, I get all "Bless her heart" and my pretty, little southern drawl makes a comeback. My point: I love 'em.

     Anyhow, Martha Stewart would be impressed with my desk at work. Everything has a home...in a pretty little container. The centerpiece of the cuteness was a big 16 oz. Mason jar. Did I mention I love Mason jars? Well, in a truly tragic incident, complete with 16 3-year-olds and a lovely afternoon teacher, my Mason jar (or, the thousands of pieces that used to be my Mason jar) found a new home: the trash can. In an attempt to curb my wrath, this precious teacher wrote me the most over-the-top apology letter in the history of the world. (He must've sensed my ridiculous attachment to my jar.) So, you would think, because my life is centered around learning about the worthlessness of possessions right now, I would hold my head high and laugh it off. I did not. In fact, my gut reaction was to take the eye-for-an-eye approach. My Mason jar for his firstborn son. After cooling off, however, I took a different approach. I remembered that I bought the jar from Wal-Mart, I reigned in my inner Southern Belle, and remembered the thing I've been learning this month: People are always more important than things. So, I tracked down the breaker of the jar, I gave him a hug, and I told him he could buy me another one for the low, low price of $20. Just kidding. It's just a jar. Sheesh.

Day 3-Mike Gets In On the Action

After looking at my newly thinned out closet, Mike decided to give it a go. I have to say, I helped with this entertaining activity and it felt good to see a few of his pieces...ahem, go.

His Total so Far: 58 items.
Family Grand Total: 167 items. Aye!

PS- Holly, I have a whole boxes of t-shirts ready to be quilted. I have this feeling it's not gonna be as easy as it looks. :)

Day 3

Sunday and Monday got away from me, so I played catch-up today. I decided to strike the most over-whelming collection first...my clothes! I needed to let go of 21 items for Sunday, Monday, and today.

Total items purged: 109!

That's not a joke. I got rid of 109 pieces of clothing. a) It's disgusting that I even own that much. b) I can't believe I can get rid of 109 things and still have a functional wardrobe. I'm only allowing clothes to account for Week 1, no matter how many pieces there are. And, quite honestly, I have this hunch that I've barely scratched the surface.

So, here's where I'm banking on some kind of audience. I have 109 things that need a new home. If, by the end of the week, I haven't made a personal connection with anyone who needs these things, I'm going to make a visit to the Blue Ridge Women's Shelter. But, I would much rather personally find a new owner for this stuff. So, if you, Sweet Reader, know of a good home for these things, let me know! I'll get it there.

With that being said, if you know of any physical need in our community during this month, please let me know. There are several others who are participating in 7, so if I can't personally meet the need, I'll be glad to work my magic with my little 7 circle! :)

On a completely un-related topic, my kid starting crawling this weekend. Bring on the baby gate...which I frequently trip over on the way down my stairs. Praise the Lord.

Month 1 Challenge: Possessions

    When Mike and I initially decided to do 7, I kind of thought we'd hear "Good luck with that" (drenched with sarcastic undertones). When explaining our plan, I figured we'd get strange stares and awkward silences. I'm surprised, however, that the most common response we got to our little adventure was "I want in!"
     Sure, we're stuck in our crazy little cycle of consumerism. But, we all want out. That's the most bizarre part of this whole thing. I explained to a friend this week how frustrated I get when I walk through my house. Seriously...there are things in here--I don't even know what they ARE! It's frustrating, to me, that I've spent so many hours working--so many hours away from my family--to buy so many things that don't matter at all. So, as my friend and I were talking, she kept repeating, "me too!" We all do it, and yet, we all hate that we do it.
     Anyway, the response that I got gave me hope. It doesn't have to be like this. We don't have to consume and waste the way that we do. There's a way out. There's got to be a door to let Jesus into this crazy cluttered life I live. I'm just hoping that this is a start.

So...Here it is...Month 1 Challenge: Possessions


     Before I can even touch the emotional, mental, and spiritual clutter, I have to get rid of the physical clutter. So,

1. One month.
2. We give away 7 things that we own.
3. Everyday.

     Don't laugh. I have this sneaky suspicion that it'll be easy to give away lots of my nifty, if completely impractical, kitchen tools. Clothes...no big deal. Shoes...kiss 'em goodbye. Tools...does it count if I give away my husband's impractical junk? But, oh...my throw blankets. I have one of every color, for every season, in every fabric you can imagine. I'm seriously concerned that I might have to give away one of my throw blankets. And, seriously...I have a special connection with each one. They make me happy...and warm. So, you can imagine my concern...

     Back to my point...my goal is to give these things away to those who need them. But, I think it's all too convenient to load things up and ship them off to Goodwill. We can avoid face-to-face contact with those who are in need. Makes it more comfortable to exist in my charmed world. So, I'm going to try to meet people who need the things I am giving up. 

    Anyhow, that's it...doesn't sound too bad, right? Sunday is Day 1. Let the de-cluttering commence.

WWJD Poster Children...or not.

     I can't remember when I felt it first. Maybe it was in the checkout line at Wal-Mart when I signed my name to a 202.00 receipt. Maybe it was while I literally stuffed clothes into one of the EIGHT places we store clothing in our house. Maybe it was while throwing away several pounds of food that went to waste in our refrigerator. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but over the past several months I have become aware of this seriously excessive lifestyle that our family lives.
     I can't stop buying clothes! Seriously. I could probably wear a different top every day of the year. We just closed on our house, like, what? 4 months ago? And, already, we talk about the bigger, better one we'll buy one day. We eat out, at relatively pricey places, like, 5 or 6 times a week! My kid...don't get me started. His room looks like Toys R Us exploded in there. The point is...I'm not complaining. We are incredibly blessed. But, I just feel guilty. There just has to be more than this sick cycle of acquiring, hoarding, and wasting. And, with all of this stuff, we're so well off that we don't need Jesus anymore. Ugh...even writing that makes me ill. We fulfill our needs (but, really, our wants, mostly). We give to ourselves. We keep for ourselves. And, others go without because of it.
     It's just...time to change. Unfortunately, I think this habit is so deeply ingrained that I can't just say I'm going to change. I need a plan. And, I need it to start down deep. I need to start from scratch. From the very beginning. And, so, there is 7.
     I blame my husband for this little adventure. On Valentine's Day, he drove me to Barnes and Noble to feed one of my addictions of excess: I got to pick out a new book. (Ah, the irony.) I suppose he expected me to pick out a sweet, little novel. But, I happened upon this treasure:

     And, so the adventure begins. Ms. Hatmaker outlines this experiment in drastic reduction. She addresses 7 areas...some of the very areas I have been writhing (in vain) against for some time. They are Clothes, Shopping, Waste, Food, Possessions, Media, and Stress. In the next (roughly) 7 months, our family will spend one month reducing in each of the 7 areas. And, you, lucky audience, will get to have a front seat to it. I hope we entertain you. I hope we inspire you. And, I hope we don't whine too much. 

     Many have heard this Gandhi quote, but I feel like it has never been more pertinent to my life. He said, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." So, sure. We're raging against excess to experience more de-cluttered lives. We're doing it to teach our little boy how to break the cycle of destructive acquisition. We're trying to live more economically- and environmentally-friendly lifestyles. But, mostly, at the risk of looking like the poster-children for the bizarre WWJD campaign of the '90s, we just want to look more like Jesus. We want to get rid of stuff to make room for him. Anyhow, game on and Happy Reduction.