learning stewardship

Working third shift has some ill effects. I struggle to maintain a consistent sleep pattern and have a social life. My writing has visibly suffered from my fatigue; I find myself making simple grammatical errors, only to catch them three days later (and wonder how many have judged me). Just last evening, I punched in at 10PM, was forced to stay until 10AM, and I haven't experienced a dark sky in over 24 hours. It does something to your psyche.

I must however remember how God provides for my needs. If I had it my way, I would work twelve hour days behind the bar of my own coffeehouse, working for meager profits and tips. I'm not a man that enjoys the responsibility of greater wealth, which may sound weird to some. But in preparation of the stewardship that God would have me exercise (for His work, for priorities, for a wife), I am being asked to make due with more.

It again makes me think of the man with only one talent. He feared the loss of what little he had, so he buried it and received no greater reward. In fact, what he was given was taken away. He was not expected to reap the same reward as the man with five talents, he was expected to be wise with whatever was entrusted to him.

Something about our financial position lends itself to pride, regardless of which end we rest. For years, I learned to make a living with little, and I found it easy to snub those that "needed" the security of wealth. I became proud in my check-to-check living, wondering why anyone should need more than the basic necessities that I required.

The first delusion was that I could not afford to give up more. Having less than the average American still makes me awfully rich in the third world, and since I wasn't doing much to support their cause, my one talent could have easily been stripped. Secondly, we can never assume what another man intends with his wealth. Are the majority of wealthy individuals bad stewards? Yes -- and so are the majority of people in poverty. Stewardship is a discipline for a reason.

My heart was revealed a few years ago, after reading these excerpts from Dallas Willard's "The Spirit of the Disciplines":

While certain individuals may be given a specific call to poverty, in general, being poor is one of the poorest of ways to help the poor. Further, I have yet to find anyone who was the better person simply for being poor. In some instances, people might do fewer bad things than they would if they had more means. Poverty may in some cases be said to have secured the lack of opportunity to do evil, but that will not recommend it to those who are not looking for such an opportunity in the first place...

...Sometimes poverty is idealized within various cultural traditions, but that poverty is not destitution; it is nonpossession coupled with security of provision for basic needs. This type of poverty may be useful as a discipline for the spiritual life, if undertaken in a right faith. It is not, however, a condition especially virtuous in itself, because possession is not an evil in itself. Nor does it automatically guarantee freedom from inner servitude to wealth. It is also not a superior spiritual condition in general. There is nothing especially holy about not possessing material goods, even though that lifestyle may be appropriate for given individuals. (pp. 198-199, 218; bold type added)

Ouch. Because this was true of my life.

Since I have returned to a traditional 40-hour workplace, God has granted me a house, some financial stability, a great credit rating, and ultimately a greater opportunity to give. Whether I seize that opportunity is entirely up to me.